Chains
by Wohitzi
Summary: They say love makes a man do desperate things. What happens when Zuko, an already desperate man, tries to prove himself to Katara? Sequel to 'Domino Effects'.
1. Chapter 1

'_This isn't my bed.'_

This was Katara's first thought when she awakened with a throbbing head and stiff limbs. It was an accurate if not obvious statement, seeing as she didn't _have_ a bed – especially not one with mounds of silk sheets and fluffy pillows and an absurdly comfortable mattress.

Lying under the mountain of golden silk, she searched her mind for an explanation. The previous night was fuzzy an unclear. She remembered arguing with her friends over where to go next, she thinking it best if they kept their current distance from the Fire Palace to avoid detection, while Sokka believed they should get as close as possible so they would be ready for the invasion. She had been in a sour mood when she curled up in her sleeping bag, and Jet had lay down beside her and talked to her until she cheered up. Then they both drifted to sleep and...

And the next thing she remembered was waking up in this bed.

'_There has to be something else,_' she thought, prying at the memories in her groggy mind. She knew that, at some point, she had woken up. But when...

_Smoke filled the air, choking her lungs as she struggled to stand, only to realize her limbs had become limp and numb. They were being ambushed, poisoned – someone was trying to capture them. Amid the confusion she could hear shouting, though the words and voices were hard to distinguish._

_A figure loomed over her, appearing through the smoke and darkness. There was someone slung over his shoulder, and when she squinted she could see the figure's face – or, at least, what covered it. A mask, the blue and white image of a frightful demon. He was kneeling down, throwing her over his shoulder as she shrieked and tried to defend herself, unresponsive limbs refusing to kick or punch or fight. Her body had already shut down, and her mind was slowly fading..._

Jolting upright, Katara let out a sound between a scream and a gasp, her clothes clinging to her with sweat.

Only, they weren't _her_ clothes – she was in an unfamiliar (though definitely comfortable), loose fitting robe of red and gold silk.

"Oh! Lady Katara, how nice to see you awake!" a woman cried, rushing to her bedside. A dozen more women followed, all talking at once ("How are you feeling?" "Would you like anything to eat?" "Would you like me to massage your head?") and making Katara's mind spin.

"Where are my clothes?" she asked when there was finally a lull in the women's fussing. Then, despite already having an idea of the answer, she added, "Where am I?"

"You're in the Fire Nation palace in a room reserved for our most honoured guests," one of the women said, reaching around Katara and fluffing her pillows. "Prince Zuko requested that you be given our best care."

Another woman, sitting at the end of the bed rubbing Katara's feet, said, "Your clothing was filthy, so we had to give them a good washing. You can keep the robe if you like, though."

"I..." she tried, feeling overwhelmed as the women (who she now realized were handmaidens) crowded around her, resuming their fussing and unrequested pampering. Dimly, she realized there was another very important issue to be addressed.

"Lady Katara, your clothing is clean and waiting!" a new handmaiden announced, standing in the doorway with a wide smile and basket of laundry balanced on her shoulder.

_A figure loomed over her, appearing through the smoke and darkness. There was someone slung over his shoulder..._

"Who else?" Katara blurted. At the women's curious gaze, she elaborated: "Who else was taken to the palace?"

"Oh yes," the woman with the basket said, setting her load on a chair by the door, "the Prince did bring someone else with him, didn't he?"

"There was a big celebratory dinner between the royal family," the foot massager added. "They say the war is all but over now."

Katara felt her heart sink. Aang – of course Zuko would capture Aang. Who else would he have reason to go after? The eclipse was little over a week away and Aang was...

"Hey, come on – give her some space!" a familiar voice ordered, causing her heart to plummet further. The sea of servants parted, revealing none other than Prince Zuko, a broad smile at his lips and his hair pulled into a topknot.

"What did you do to Aang?" she demanded as he approached, clenching at her silk sheets. "Where is he? Where are the rest of my friends? What do you want with me?"

"He's fine! They're all fine!" Zuko assured her, sitting on the end of the enormous bed. Sighing, he stared at the floor. His smile had vanished, replaced by a small frown and eyes narrowed in thought. "I just... trust me. I don't want to hurt you or your friends."

"Except Aang."

His gaze jerked toward her as he opened his mouth to respond, only to exhale heavily an instant later and look away once more. After a moment, he murmured, "It's complicated."

"I'm sure," she grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring.

The handmaidens watched the exchange uneasily, whispering among themselves. A look from Zuko silenced them instantly.

"Look, I just... I want you to have a chance to get to know me, to see what I'm really like. Give it a day or two – you'll love it here."

"I think you've already given me a pretty clear picture of what you're like."

"Just give me a chance," he said, meeting her eyes with a look bordering on desperation.

Turning her gaze purposefully away, she scowled and said, "You don't deserve a chance. And no amount of gold in the world will make me like you."

A second later the meaning of her words hit her full force, accompanied by the memory of her last conversation with him in Ba Sing Se. Was _that_ what this was about? Proving himself to her so she would... _fall in love with him? _It seemed completely ridiculous, but (she glanced at his face, the almost pleading expression) certainly explained Zuko's odd behaviour.

"I'm still with Jet," she said, gauging his reaction out of the corner of her eyes.

"Right. I know that." He seemed to deflate, his shoulders sagging and already-desperate expression crumpling further. Without another word, he got to his feet and headed toward the door.

"Then why bothering dragging me here?"

He paused a step away from them doorway, not facing her as he said, "I've never been one to give up without a fight."

Then he disappeared down the hallway.

As soon as he was out of sight, the handmaidens resumed their fussing, grabbing at Katara's hair and feet and pillows, asking if there was anything she needed.

'_I _need_ to get out of here,'_ she thought, wincing as one of the women worked at untangling her knotted hair. '_And a bath would be nice._'

The instant the thought had passed through her mind, a switch seemed to flick on in her mind. _Of course!_ Why hadn't she thought of it earlier?

"Actually," she said, hardly able to suppress her grin, "I could use a nice, hot bath."

XxXx

"I really don't think this is a good idea, nephew."

Zuko sighed, rubbing tiredly at his face. "Uncle, how many times do I have to tell you? Everything is _fine_."

Iroh continued to look sceptical. The two of them sat in the palace gardens, sipping tea at a table beneath a lush, green, umbrella-shaped tree. The conversation they shared had been a common topic since the night before, when Zuko arrived at the palace gates with Katara and the Avatar and an unnecessary amount of pride (in Iroh's opinion, at least).

Zuko couldn't understand his uncle's problem. What was so bad about capturing the girl he pined for and the boy who would restore his honour? Killing two dragon-hawks with one fire blast was a _good_ thing, right? It got both jobs done quick and easy and made everyone happy.

Well, except his uncle and Katara. But they would soon realize it was all for the better.

"I just don't think this will end well for you, Prince Zuko," Iroh said, shaking his head as he stared down at his tea (which he had yet to even take a sip of).

"What could possibly go wrong?"

The look he gave him seemed to say, "Do you _really_ want me to answer that?"

"Trust me, uncle – things will be fine," Zuko said with a smile, trying to ease the old man's obvious doubt. "Azula helped me figure it all out."

"_Azula_?" Iroh hissed, his eyes bugging out of his head. "I'm sorry, nephew, but have you _lost your mind_?"

"Look, I know she hasn't been the most trustworthy ally, but I really think she's trying to help this time. I can see the logic behind her suggestions."

Iroh opened his mouth to object, then shut it, shaking his head mutely instead. After a moment of tight-lipped silence, he finally sighed and said, "Alright, nephew. If you really think it's for the best..."

"It is," he said firmly.

It was then that they heard someone frantically calling Zuko's name. Peering over his nephew's shoulder, Iroh allowed himself a slight smile as he said, "I think the servants might be having a little trouble with Miss Katara."

Hesitantly, Zuko turned to see what he was talking about.

Rushing toward them was a panicked looking handmaiden, her clothing soaked and long black hair plastered to the side of her face, a few stray bubbles clinging to her. "Prince Zuko! We have a small problem."

Shooting his uncle a 'don't-say-"I-told-you-so"' glare, he bolted from his seat and hurried across the well-kept lawn, shouting to the servant, "Get Ty Lee and head back to the bathhouse as soon as possible. I'll get her under control."

"Yes, Your Highness!" she said, bowing before obediently hurrying toward the other side of the palace, where Azula's room (and, by association, the princess's friends) was held.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Took forever, but I finally got around to writing the sequel! =D Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait and people didn't lose interest after waiting so long._

_Tell me what you think! Also, advice on a better summary is much love. xD_

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	2. Chapter 2

The bathroom was chaos.

Water was spilled (or, more likely, _thrown_) across the floor in sudsy puddles, the handmaidens scurrying as they alternated between protecting themselves and trying to restrain Katara, who stood in the tub and was clearly the source of the ordeal. Her arms made rapid, complicated motions, the water lashing out at her command, knocking over shampoos and towels and shelves.

One of the servants ducked a stream of water, catching sight of Zuko as she did so and exclaiming, "Oh, thank the spirits! Prince Zuko, please help us!"

Hearing this, Katara turned to face him and the cowering woman, eyes narrowing. He suppressed a groan (did she really need to _announce_ his arrival?), instead focusing his attention on getting control over the rebelling waterbender.

Dashing forward, he skilfully evaded the water-whips she sent his way, some being turned to steam by a well-aimed fire blast. The handmaidens all scurried to a corner relatively safe from their battle, watching the two benders with wide eyes. Zuko took a lashing from a puddle behind him and had to suppress a shout of pain and frustration – obviously, their battlefield wasn't working in his favour. It was too much water in too many places, giving her the advantage and making it all the more difficult to get near her.

At some point during their fight, a puddle a few feet from the tub was frozen. Zuko lunged forward to dodge a barrage of icicles, only to step on the frozen patch, slip, and fall headfirst into the tub.

Sensing the grave danger he was in (being partially submerged in water while fighting Katara was a _bad_ idea), he swung his arm in the vague direction he remembered her leg being in, made contact, and narrowly avoided having Katara collapse on top of him. She came up, coughing water and swearing, but had no chance to retaliate – Zuko had seized her arms and pinned them against her back.

"Stop," he commanded, voice low but firm - an impressive feat considering how out of breath he was.

"Let me go!" she yelled, struggling against him with violent desperation. It was difficult to keep a firm grip on her, with his hands and her wrists slick from soapy water and her thrashing in an effort to break free.

"Are you going to cooperate?"

"No! I'll never do anything a monster like you tells me to!"

_Monster_. That word had always been reserved for Azula and her sadistic ways, not him. The tone Katara said it in, sharp and bitter and full of hate, was like a physical slap.

"I'll ask again," he said, struggling to keep his voice even, "will you cooperate?"

"What makes you think I'd _ever_ listen to you?" she hissed, no longer thrashing and instead focusing on wiggling her hands free. "I _hate_ you!"

It wasn't a shocking statement, but it still came as a hard blow. This wasn't how he had expected things to turn out, not how he had _wanted_ them to. Part of him understood that her anger and resistance were normal and he should've prepared himself for them, but another part (the one dominated by his heart and fantasies of a perfect life) was too idealistically hopeful to see the reality of the situation.

Tightening his grip on her wrists and pushing passed the lump in his throat and knot in his stomach, he said, "I'm trying to be fair, but I can't give you the privileges and freedoms I want to if you do things like this." He lowered his voice, speaking in gentle though still commanding tones, "Now, will you cooperate or do I have to lock you in your room with supervision 24/7?"

"No," she said through clenched teeth, "I'll never do as you say."

The door to the bathroom was being swung open at that moment, the handmaiden who had alerted Zuko to the emergency entering with Ty Lee.

Spotting the pair in the tub, Ty Lee grinned broadly and suppressed a giggle. "What are _you two_ up to?"

"Just block her chi," he growled, in no mood for teasing or jokes. His visions of Katara being quickly enlightened to his fantastic lifestyle and golden heart were already falling apart, and he was beginning to wonder if maybe Iroh had been right.

Leaning into the tub, Ty Lee pinched a few spots on Katara's restrained arms. The other girl was silent, head bowed as her power was temporarily robbed from her. Once Zuko released her and clamoured out of the tub, one of the handmaidens rushed over with a fuzzy towel, wrapping her in it as soon as she got to her feet. It was then that he noticed the tears running down her cheeks, though she tried to hide them by ducking her head and avoiding his gaze.

Feeling heavy with waterlogged clothes and disappointment, he left the bathhouse and hurried to his room, intent on changing into a dry outfit and taking a nap.

XxXx

_Zuko recognized where he was, dimly aware that it had a name he shouldn't forget. He stood on a thin pathway of earth that stretched across a lake, just a few meters long with a hole at the end. Below, down the latter within that hole, was a secret place of brainwashing and the cultural minister's police. He knew all this, yet couldn't for the life of him figure out what any of it meant. _

_Then he was staring at a familiar face, one that seemed to materialize out of the darkness of the tunnel. It was Long Feng – the name came to him easily, easier than his own had – glaring and determined to escape, and Zuko knew he needed to be defeated before... before something bad happened (what that something was eluded him)._

_His fist shot forward with a wave of flames, consuming the enemy. There was screaming, burning, the scent of melting flesh – _

"Aah!"

And then he was upright in bed and sweating, his breath coming in short gasps.

It was a nightmare. That was all, just a horrible nightmare...

"Have I come at a bad time, Zuzu?"

He gritted his teeth, suddenly wishing he were still asleep. "What do you want, Azula?"

"I heard what you brought home with you," she said, stepping further into the room, her hands clasped behind her back. "I must say – I'm quite pleased that you followed my advice."

"It just seemed most logical," he said, glaring at a patch of floor to his left. Good advice or not, he still didn't completely trust his sister; Iroh was right about her always having something up her sleeve. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," she said, voice fakely sweet as she widened her eyes in an attempt to look innocent. "Can't I just be happy for my brother?"

"It's never that simple with you."

Sighing, she sat at the end of his bed and said, "Fine. I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but... father is sceptical of the waterbender's benefit." Seeing his expression, she reached out to touch his hand. "I tried to persuade him, but he really thinks it's best for the Fire Nation if you keep your relationships within _our_ nation rather than... _out_sourcing."

"I thought you said –"

"I _tried,_ Zuzu," she said, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture, "but he won't listen. He doesn't see why you would want to associate with Water Tribe barbarians when you can settle down with a nice, well-mannered Fire Nation noble. Like Mai."

He growled, turning away. "Katara is the girl I like, and I won't let politics or father's judgments get in the way. Besides, she'll grow on him – that's just how she is."

Azula scoffed. "Not if she keeps pulling stunts like the one this morning."

Grimacing at the memory, Zuko said, "She's just scared – confused. Don't worry; she'll learn to love it here."

It was as much to convince himself as his sister.

XxXx

"What do you mean, 'Not yet'?" Jet demanded, fists clenching and stomach knotting, the reality of their situation weighing heavily on his mind.

Katara was _gone_, kidnapped, and Sokka wanted to _wait?_ It was heartless, cold, an unbelievable suggestion. The Fire Nation was robbing them of what they valued most and they just sat there, allowing it to happen!

Letting his grudge and thirst for revenge rest while they were in the very nation he hated was one thing – it was a logical matter of surviving until they reached the palace and could cut the problem at its root. He had tolerated the traditional styles and customs of his enemy, talking to and trusting people they should fight, turning the other way when they had the perfect opportunity to destroy Fire Nation resources...

But this? This he could not, _would _not, stand for.

"Jet, hear me out," Sokka said, using a tone reserved for explaining schemes everyone deemed insane. "I thought about it while we were paralyzed, and... Well, if we try freeing them now, we'll get slaughtered. It's three against an army."

"But -"

"If we wait," he continued, talking over Jet's protests, "and strike during the eclipse, we'll have the army my dad gathered, the Earth King's support, _and_ the element of surprise. There's no point barging in now when we have a better chance of surviving in a week."

"So we're just going to sit here?" he asked, dark eyes glinting as he levelled his comrade with a glare. "We're going to sit around and wait while they" – his arm shot out, pointing in the general direction of the palace – "do spirits-know-what to Aang and Katara? Are you really so –"

"Cool it!" Toph cut in, meeting the look he threw her with annoyed, sightless eyes. "Sparky is pretty fond of Sugar Queen, and his uncle says he's a good guy at heart. This is probably his twisted way of showing that he loves her, not some plot to kill her."

"What about Aang?"

"I don't think they'd hurt him," Sokka said. "Not until they have Ba Sing Se, and maybe the rest of the Water Tribe under control. It'd be too risky."

Growling, Jet turned away from them, pacing forward and biting his lip (even with his old habit broken, he still felt the need to chew on something when he was frustrated or trying to think).

They were right. He knew that, but it was a hard fact to swallow. Waiting around while Hakoda (whom they had met up with after talking with the Earth King and receiving his letter) amassed an army would be torture, filling him with the same helplessness he had felt after his parents died and his village was in disrepair. It felt right to act first and think second, the desperation flowing through him making him anxious and angry. At the same time, when he distanced his mind from the emotions of the situation he could understand Sokka's reasoning and even agree that it was the best plan.

Kicking at a tree stump, he raked his fingers through his hair, biting down on his lip so hard he thought it might bleed. He was a leader and therefore used to making hard decisions – but they were still and always would be _hard,_ especially when they involved the well-being of a beloved comrade.

"Alright," he sighed at last, turning to face Toph and Sokka. "Fine. We'll wait, so long as getting Katara and Aang back is top priority during the invasion."

"Of course," Sokka said, eyebrows furrowed in an expression of slight hurt and confusion. "What makes you think we wouldn't?"

Jet said nothing, stalking off toward the forest.

After a few tense, silent seconds Toph frowned and said, "Who died and made _him_ Queen Bee-rat?"

* * *

Author's Notes: _Okay, so, I had to completely rewrite the bathroom scene once, and then do a lot of editing to it just now, so I hope you guys like it. xD I'm also hopeful that I did Jet and Azula justice in this chapter - they're hard characters to write. Especially Jet - we never got to see enough of him. _

_Also, is Sokka's choice of action realistic for his character? I'm kinda nervous that might be way crazy. _

_Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	3. Chapter 3

"Prince Zuko?"

The voice startled Zuko out of a daydream, making him sit upright on his bed to see who was addressing him.

Katara stood in his doorway with arms crossed and two palace guards at her side. The red outfit she had worn when he captured her was back in place, though she had braided her hair in a stubborn display of Water Tribe culture. Her mother's necklace was on again, too, no longer hidden for the sake of disguise and clashing with her otherwise red appearance.

"You wanted to see the prisoner?" one of the guards asked, gently pushing her into the room.

"She's not a prisoner," Zuko said, frowning. "But, yes, thank-you."

Without another word, the guards bowed and left the pair to their privacy.

"What do you want?" she asked, arms still crossed and face twisted into a scowl. It made Zuko miss the teashop back in Ba Sing Se, if only because he was able to spy on her smiling and laughing with Jet. So far, the only expressions he had seen her wear since being captured were ones of anger or sadness.

"I figure the only way you'll ever see what I nice guy I am is by spending time with me."

Her scowl was replaced by a look caught between disbelief and annoyance. With a heavy exhale, she half-turned away, tilting her head toward the ceiling and letting her arms fall to her sides. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

"Katara," he said, sighing as his shoulders slumped (somewhere in the back of his mind was the memory of a scolding voice reminding to keep good posture), "trust me, it'll be –"

"_Trust you?"_ she screeched, facing him full on once more. Her eyes had narrowed, lips pulled into a sneer. "What makes you think I could _ever_ trust you?"

"Poor choice of words," he muttered. Running his fingers through his hair with another tired sigh, he got to his feet and headed for the door. "Let's just go."

XxXx

"Hello, Miss Katara," Iroh greeted, rising from his chair to bow when she and Zuko entered his room. Beside him was a small table, on top of which sat a Pai Sho board and a teapot (with cups, of course).

Despite her annoyance with the whole situation, Katara couldn't help smiling at the old man. Obviously, Zuko didn't inherit his personality from Iroh, who was sweet and funny and probably didn't kidnap people.

"It's so nice to see you again," he said as they all seated themselves, pouring each a cup of tea.

"I'd say the same, but given the situation..."

"Understandable," he said, laughing good-naturedly. Then, turning to his nephew with a sly grin, he asked, "So, what was all that about yesterday?"

Narrowing his eyes as though some sort of secret insult had just been thrown at him, the boy in question said, "Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Oh?" Iroh said, keeping his gaze on him when he added, "Was Miss Katara upset about something?"

Sensing that the question was directed at her, Katara frowned and said, "Well, yeah. Your crazy nephew kidnapped me and Aang, destroying all hope for an end to this war and isolating me from my friends. Why _shouldn't_ I be upset?"

"I already told you!" Zuko snapped, scowling. "I don't want to hurt you or anyone else – just give me a chance and you'll see that I'm a good guy!"

"Yeah, because destroying the world's last hope for peace is _so_ kind-hearted and doesn't hurt _anyone_!"

"If you could just look passed that –"

"_Look passed_? What, you think I should just magically forgive you for all the wrongs you've committed because _now_ you're trying to be nice?"

Growling, Zuko rested his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "You're _impossible_."

Iroh listened to the exchange, shaking his head (though he couldn't suppress a small grin). It seemed the object of Zuko's affections possessed the same fiery temper and stubborn passion as him, a fact that would undoubtedly lead to an endless amount of arguments much like their current one.

'_I'm going to need a stronger tea if I want them calm enough to play Pai Sho,'_ he mused, frowning at the liquid in his cup. Katara let out a particularly loud shriek of outrage, making him wince. '_And a heated compress for the headaches I'm going to have."_

"Perhaps we should go for a walk in the gardens," he suggested, rising from his seat and interrupting the still-bickering pair. "I hear the fire lilies are in bloom and their scent is quite soothing."

"Sure," Zuko said half-heartedly, getting to his feet and heading toward the door. He had only taken a few steps when he paused, turning back to his uncle and saying, "Uh... We should probably bring Ty Lee. Because of the pond..."

"Ah, of course," Iroh said, wrinkles creasing as he smiled. "I seem to be forgetful in my old age."

Still seated at the small table, Katara crossed her arms with a huff. How was she supposed to escape and find Aang with so many people watching all the time?

XxXx

As it turned out, Ty Lee wasn't the only person who came on their walk – for reasons beyond anyone's comprehension, Azula and Mai joined them as well. The odd mix of company created a thick tension in the air that no amount of fire lilies could sooth.

"Aw, they're so _cute_ together!" Ty Lee gushed, hands clasped together as she watched Zuko lead a reluctant and resistant Katara through the gardens. "Don't you think they're adorable?"

On her right, Mai was focusing her version of a death glare on the back of Katara's head. "Just precious."

Noticing her friend's expression, Ty Lee covered her mouth, letting out a tiny gasp. Lowering her hands, she stage-whispered, "You still...? But you told me you didn't like Zuko anymore!"

This earned a hard elbow to the ribs.

"Ow! Hey!"

On Ty Lee's other side, Azula rolled her eyes and quickened her pace, leaving the pair behind. As the group continued moving at a leisurely speed, stalled by Iroh's desire to stop and smell the roses (literally), she observed Zuko and Katara. It was undeniably obvious that her brother harboured strong feelings for the girl, though why was still a mystery. She was a peasant, a barbarian, with poor posture and unladylike behaviour and an overall manner that left much to be desired, especially in a house of royalty. Not to mention the fact that she was loudmouthed, stubborn, disobedient, and disrespectful – why would anyone want _her_ to be their Fire Lady?

'_No matter,_' she thought, swallowing her revulsion and maintaining the facade of a caring sister. '_Once father learns Zuzu's mind can't be changed, he'll give him the option of the throne and a noble bred wife, or no throne and that filthy peasant.'_ A smirk flickered across her lips, concealed as quickly as it came. '_Who knew claiming the crown would be so easy?'_

Oblivious, Zuko watched Katara examine an exotic, orange and green flower, listening to Iroh's explanation of its origin and purpose. The sight of his dopey, lovesick smile forced Azula to swallow a laugh of victory. The title she rightfully deserved would soon be hers to take, and all she had to do was ensure Katara didn't escape.

XxXx

"Where are we going?"

Sokka didn't pause in his progress, slashing away a mess of vines as he said, "We've been over this already. The closer we can get to the Fire Palace, the better I can strategise based on its surroundings."

"Why can't we fly Appa?" Toph asked, for once not enjoying the feel of earth at her feet (not this earth, anyway – it had rocks and sticks and followed a seemingly never-ending path).

"Because that would be like marching in with a giant flag saying, "We're here for the Avatar!"

"And Katara," Jet added, perhaps a bit too harshly.

Sokka blinked, one eyebrow rising as he turned to his companion. "Dude, it was just a general statement. Do you _seriously_ think I'd forget about my own sister?"

Jet said nothing, merely quickening his pace. With a roll of his eyes, Sokka hurried to keep up, leaving a rather disgruntled Toph behind.

XxXx

Aang awoke with a start, acutely aware that something was wrong. He didn't know where he was or what had happened – all he remembered was that, at some point in the night (which night? How much time had passed?), he had been choked by smoke and hands had grabbed at him and the world had faded away very quickly.

Now he was somewhere that was decidedly bad – he couldn't see, he couldn't move, it was cold, and he had the distinct feeling that he wasn't alone.

"He's waking up," a voice said from somewhere in the darkness. "Better give 'im another shot."

Something sharp jabbed into his arm, too small to cause any real pain. An unpleasantly familiar haze covered his mind like a blanket, slowing his thought to nothing, returning him to the world of the oblivious.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Chapter three! =D I'm relatively pleased with how this turned out, though there are a few parts that I just couldn't get to work right. Hopefully you guys think it's decent and enjoy reading it. I'd love to hear your opinions. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko and his (mostly unwanted) companions continued through the gardens, stopping often so Iroh and Katara could examine and discuss certain plants. The pleasantness she showed him spiked a pang of jealousy that Zuko struggled to quell. Why was she so happy in Iroh's company when she refused to so much as consider giving _him_ a chance?

Then again, Iroh had never done anything to upset her. _He_ had... well, harassed her and her friends since the day he met her, then decided he actually _liked_ her and kidnapped her along with the Avatar. It probably wasn't the best start to a relationship.

But she would get over it. She would see passed her grudge and realize what he was really like, and everything would be _good_.

At that moment they were admiring a large tree that grew by the turtle-duck pond, its leafy branches stretching out to provide a wide space of shade. Zuko watched as Katara cooed at the animals, seeming to have grown disinterested in Iroh's story of the tree's origin.

"Aw, they're so cute," she gushed, holding her finger out to one of the baby ducks. Instead of brushing soft, downy feathers, however, she was greeted by the mother duck chomping down hard on her finger. "Ow!" Jumping back, she cradled her hand to her chest.

Chuckling, Iroh shooed the protective animal away, saying "You have to be careful – a mother will do anything to defend her young."

Still watching from the sidelines, Zuko felt a sharp pain stab at his brain. An image flickered through his mind, half-formed and blurry and lasting barely a second, yet somehow managing to twist at his heart, building a knot of grief and loneliness in his throat. There was something... something about that moment was...

"Is something wrong, nephew?" Iroh asked, the hand he placed on Zuko's shoulder jolting him from his thoughts.

Whatever idea he had begun to grasp slipped away, forgotten. With a slight shake of his head, he muttered, "No. It's nothing."

Iroh gave him an increasingly familiar look of scepticism, but didn't prod further, instead returning his attention to Katara and the ducks. Watching them, Zuko was unsure if the sudden hollow spot in his heart was caused by the openness they showed one another or the memory that still tugged at the back of his mind.

XxXx

Sitting on her bed with her legs hugged to her chest, Katara glared at her door, knowing a guard stood watch on the other side, ready to subdue her should she try to escape.

Her second day in the place was coming to an end and still she was no closer to finding Aang, let alone escaping. She wasn't even sure where to _look_ for him – did the palace have him locked up in an underground dungeon? Or a prison somewhere in the capital? Or, worse, had he been shipped somewhere far away to a specially made prison?

Iroh hadn't been much help. Any question she asked was ignored or tactfully answered, and he never fell victim to attempts at steering the conversation in circles. Likeable old man or not, his loyalty to Zuko was unshakeable and unfathomable. It was probably a 'blood is thicker than water' thing, since she had trouble seeing Zuko as someone you could trust and like with ease, regardless of his insistence of being a good guy at heart.

'_If he's so good, why didn't he offer to teach Aang firebending instead of kidnapping me? He knows what our goal is,'_ she thought, glare deepening to a scowl as she rested her chin on her knees. '_A real good guy would consider what _I_ want. Like Jet._'

The thought of her boyfriend sent a pang of homesickness through her gut. He was undoubtedly worried sick, probably arguing with Sokka (they never could get passed their dislike of each other). Where were he and the others? Were they behaving themselves and maintaining their disguise? If Jet let their cover get blown because of his obsession with revenge...

No, he wouldn't – he would know the importance of laying low until he could free Aang and stop the war.

'_Please be safe. Please don't get captured over something stupid_,' she prayed, trying to imagine where the moon might be hanging.

Which reminded her of another frustration – no windows (or, well, none she could reach or see through). She didn't know if it was coincidental or purposeful, but the room she slept in had no windows and therefore no easy escape routes or views of the night sky. After living in the open space of the South Pole and sleeping in the wilds of the world, such a closed in room made her feel claustrophobic, regardless of how immense it actually was.

What she needed was a plan and an ally – someone who wanted her out of the palace as badly as she did. Someone who knew the ins and outs and weak points of the area, who could help her free Aang and escape to her friends.

But where could she ever hope to find someone like that? Everyone was loyal to Zuko and his family and would never dare betray them in such a way. And she couldn't bribe or threaten anyone into helping her, thanks to being chi blocked and poor by comparison to everyone in the palace.

It seemed Katara would just have to find a way to work with her limited resources.

XxXx

Ty Lee, Azula, and Mai sat in the princess's room, no one speaking but not uncomfortable in the silence. Ty Lee sat at the vanity, playing with her hair and examining each new style in the mirror, frowning when they didn't turn out as planned. Behind her, Mai kneeled at the foot of the bed and sharpened a knife with an expression that, to the trained eye, revealed traces of anger and envy, her brow knit together slightly and mouth pulled into a barely visible frown. Azula was lying on the bed, arms behind her head and on leg folded over the other, her lips wearing a dangerous smirk (neither of her friends dared ask what she was obviously scheming).

"How does she get her hair like that?" Ty Lee asked no one in particular, tilting her head slightly and frowning thoughtfully. Her own hair was back in its braid save for two strands on either side of her face, which she pulled at different angles so they formed loops of varying sizes.

Sitting upright, Azula took one look at her friend and let her lips curl in disgust. "Ugh. Why do you even _want_ to look like that Water Tribe barbarian?"

"Her hair's cute!" she said defensively, turning from the mirror to the other girls. "Don't you think it's cute, Mai?"

"I hate her," she deadpanned, her gaze still focused on studying the sharp edge of her knife.

"Oh, right, she's..." Ty Lee trailed off, wincing at her own words. How could she forget that Mai liked Zuko even though she said she didn't, but Zuko didn't like Mai and was instead in love with Katara, who hated him and was therefore hated by Mai? Only a _bad_ friend would forget something like that!

"Honestly, Mai," Azula was saying, rolling her eyes, "how can you like someone as pathetic as my brother?"

She said nothing, staring at her reflection on the flat side of the blade.

After a moment of tense silence (how could Azula _say_ something like that?), Ty Lee brightened. With a clap of her hands and a giggle, she said, "I have an idea! Why don't I get Katara away from Zuko so you can talk to him and show him how you feel?"

"_No_!" Mai and Azula shouted in unison (though, Mai was considerably more subdued than Azula).

Faltering, Ty Lee shrank back, eyes wide. "Wh-why not?"

"Because keeping that filth close to Zuzu will be beneficial," Azula said, tone calm but eyes narrowed menacingly.

"And there's no way I'm having a heart-to-heart with him," Mai said dryly, turning her gaze from the knife to Ty Lee.

"But self-expression is good for you! It'll make your aura _so_ much brighter!"

"I don't believe in auras."

"If you want to get hair tips from the Water peasant, fine," Azula said in a deceitfully casual manner, cutting into their conversation with a shrug. "Just leave my brother to his lovesick delusional for the time being."

"Okay..." Ty Lee said, turning back to her reflection so Azula wouldn't see her uncertainty. A familiar, anxious gnawing had attacked her stomach just like every other time she learned of a budding scheme. However, this time she couldn't just shove it to the back of her mind.

XxXx

Sitting at the pond's edge, Zuko watched the turtle-ducks with a concentrated gaze and absent mind. The flicker of memory from earlier that day was elusive, teasing him from a part of his mind he seemed unable to access. It was just out of his mental grasp and making his head ache from brain-wracking and pure frustration, the rest of him tense and fidgety and restless.

What had he almost remembered? What about this place could trigger that tiny, forgotten fragment of a memory? He knew it was something important, but his mind was incapable of doing anything more than remembering he had remembered it. Even repeating the conversation that had triggered it over and over in his head did nothing.

Which meant his brain must still be damaged after what had happened in Ba Sing Se.

"Nephew?"

Jolted from his thoughts, Zuko looked up to see Iroh standing a few feet away, brow furrowed in an expression of concern. Moving closer and sitting down beside him, the old man asked, "Is something wrong?"

"I..." Zuko hesitated, unsure how to explain his dilemma. Even he wasn't entirely sure what was wrong or why the missing memory mattered. After a moment he settled for simply asking, "Why does this place seem important to me?"

Iroh's frown deepened for an instant, then his eyes widened and expression softened, "Oh, Prince Zuko, you mean...?"

Staring down at his hands folded in his lap, he nodded. "I can't remember anything about this place. But, when you were talking to Katara, I got the sense that it used to be important to me."

It was just like when he had been trapped in the mindset of Li – little things all around him triggered pinpricks of memory, but nothing significant could make its way through his scrambled brain. Not from sheer will power alone. Instead, it took his uncle's relentless urging, the presence of half a dozen familiar faces, and Katara's soothing water to unwind his jumbled mind and sort out the truth. He needed to be _forced_ into remembering...

"... So I should remember if you tell me what happened," he said, finishing his thought aloud.

Seeming to understand what he meant, Iroh leaned back against the tree, head titled slightly skyward as he appeared to contemplate the best way to explain. "This place... This was your and Fire Lady Ursa's favourite place. You would come here almost every day to sit and talk and feed the turtle-ducks. She would help you go over your school lessons and talk to you about Azula's behaviour and teach you how to tell each turtle-duck apart. She would always tell me about the time you spent together here in her letters while I was off fighting the war..."

Listening with his mind and all senses open, Zuko sat in still silence as though any slight movement could send the memory skittering away like a frightened animal. He held his breath, waiting for some sensation of remembrance to overtake him.

Nothing. No flicker of memory, no flashbacks of gut-wrenching clarity – just a dull sense that the story was familiar and his uncle was telling the truth.

Noticing his nephew's face crumbling, Iroh released a heavy breath and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Prince Zuko."

He said nothing, just stared at a passing turtle-duck and wondered how something that seemed so important could be wiped from his mind with such ease.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Uhh, sorry I took forever to get this posted. I actually hoped to have it posted _early_, 'cause this was a four day weekend. But I ended up forgetting/having to go places/etc., so I didn't have ti done 'til now. _

_But it's a reasonably long update, right? It was actually longer at first, but I cut a scene out because I thought it was bogging down the plot and slowing things down. I'm saving it incase it's useful elsewhere, though. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. If I did... Well, this is what you'd be seeing in the series!**


	5. Chapter 5

When Katara was brought to his room on the third day, Zuko was busy rummaging through drawers in his desk.

"What are you doing?" she asked, arms crossed and eyebrow arched, standing hardly a step away from the door. In her mind, moving further into the room would be some sign of surrender, like admitting she had no way of escaping.

"Looking for a picture..." he muttered, not even sparing her a glance. With a frown, he shoved the drawer shut and slid open another. "It should be here somewhere..."

'_Odd,_' Katara thought, the corners of her mouth pulling down as she watched him ignore her. '_Normally he'd be all over me by now. I wonder if something's wrong...'_ Then, with a slight shake of her head, she chastised herself. '_Stop! You shouldn't be concerned. The sooner he stops paying attention to you, the sooner you can sneak off and find a way out of here._'

Closing the last drawer on his desk, Zuko took a step back, running his fingers through his hair and glancing around the room with a furrowed brow. Finally, his gaze landed on Katara for the first time. After a brief look of surprise, his expression relaxed slightly. "Oh, hey. Uh, when did you get in here?"

Quirking an eyebrow (something was _definitely_ off), she said, "Five minutes ago. I just asked you question, remember? You even answered."

At the word 'remember', his frown returned. His stare flickered toward the desk, then a spot on the wall, then somewhere just above Katara's shoulder. Moving passed her and pushing open the door, he muttered, "Come on. I need to talk to someone."

Still rooted in place, Katara watched him hurry down the hall with wide eyes. He didn't pause, didn't so much as glance back to ensure she was following. Was he just... _leaving_ her? With no guards or locked doors to stand in her way? After his obsessive desire to 'prove' himself and make her miraculously fall in love with him, this sudden disinterest seemed too good to be true.

And it was an opportunity she wasn't going to waste.

After a quick check for guards or servants, she hurried in the opposite direction of Zuko, hardly able to resist letting out a cry of victory. An odd mix of light-headedness and gut-churning anxiety filled her, created by the relief of near escape and fear of being caught. All she had to do was find Aang, then she would be home free.

Unfortunately, finding him would be the hardest part of the whole ordeal. The palace was a huge, foreign place, and she had no way of knowing if he was even _in_ it.

'_Maybe I should find somewhere to wait out the chi blocks. Then I can threaten someone into telling me where he is._'

Slowing to a cautious pace, Katara glanced around the corridor for a place to hide. It was all doors and portraits and unfamiliar territory. If she chose the wrong room, a servant or guard or even Azula could easily march her back to her room and lock her up again.

So where did she go?

Tiptoeing closer to a door on her left, Katara pressed her ear to the wood, waiting a few moments. Nothing – no voices, no footsteps, no rustle of clothing. Taking this as a sign it was empty and offering a prayer to Yue (_please let it be safe. Please, please don't let me get caught when I'm so close to getting out of here_), she turned the knob.

XxXx

Standing outside the throne room, Zuko stared at the heavy red curtains with their golden Fire Nation insignia, feeling a pang of fear. The last time he passed through a similar set of curtains...

No. That was a long time ago – things were different. He had matured and proved himself to his father, who would no doubt give him an answer to his worries.

Taking a deep breath, he entered.

Half-way across the room, he kneeled, placing his hands on the floor and bowing low. "Father, there's something I'd like to ask you."

Seated on his throne with the usual wall of flames surrounding him, Ozai looked down at him with a critical eye. "Likewise."

Taking this as his cue to continue, Zuko straightened; sitting upright with his hands on his knees and perfect posture (his uncle's "balance the teapot" exercise had been effective if not ridiculous). He met his father's gaze through messy bangs, suddenly aware that he had forgotten to put his hair up in the standard topknot. Evermore self-conscious, he said, "I was wondering if you knew where one of mother's portraits is. I seem to have lost the one in my room."

"No, you haven't lost it," Ozai said with calm certainty.

A wave of relief washed over him, causing him to smile and momentarily forget his nerves. "So you know where it is?"

"Yes."

When no further explanation came, he pressed, "So... Where is it?"

"In ashes."

The words hit him like a punch to the stomach, blunt and cold. "Wh-what?" That didn't make any sense. "Why?" Why would someone ever burn his mother's pictures, the only thing left of her? "When?" Who could do such a thing; why had no one told him?

"Quite some time ago," Ozai said in a manner Zuko found far too calm and casual, as if he were ordering dinner from a servant. "There is no reason to keep portraits of a woman who betrayed our nation. Think of it as a funeral of sorts."

Betrayed? Funeral? Something flickered through Zuko's mind – not a memory as much as a fact resurfacing. He had recognized that she wasn't in the palace, but it was only then that he remembered she _left_ – suddenly, mysteriously, without explanation. It was a simple fact with no proof or details behind it, but was far better than nothing.

"Is... Is there anything left of her?" he asked after a moment, unsure if he really wanted the answer.

"Her memory."

The response seemed like a slap to the face, heartless and mocking, until he realized his father knew nothing of the events in Ba Sing Se. As far as he knew, Zuko had a stable mind and zero amnesia, every detail of his past intact like always. The response wasn't an attempt at damaging his already low spirits – it was just honest.

"Thank-you," he murmured, bowing low again. His mind was elsewhere, however, trying to pull together a memory of his mother (What did her face look like – did he or Azula take after her? How old had she been?). Getting to his feet, he turned to leave.

"We're not finished here," Ozai said, tone neither threatening nor welcoming, simply firm enough to stop his son in his tracks. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

Turning back toward him, Zuko sank down to his knees again, mind now occupied with the present. His father's judgement meant everything to him – his opinion was what made him learn the manners of a prince and chase down the Avatar, after all. But they were often harsh, with high expectations and a favouring of Azula.

Hoping he hadn't done something to upset him, Zuko waited with bated breath.

Hands folded under his chin, Ozai sat in silence for a moment as he studied Zuko critically. Finally, he said, "I'm very pleased with your success in capturing the Avatar. Our conquest of Ba Sing Se is guaranteed, now."

The tension in Zuko's limbs gave way to a sigh, posture forgotten briefly as he slumped forward in relief. Straightening once more, he beamed up at Ozai.

"However-"

The smile wavered.

"- I'm not sure I understand why you chose to capture the waterbender as well."

He let out a heavy breath – how many times would he have to explain before his family understood? His heart was for Katara, and he wanted to prove what a great person he was by letting her live with him. It seemed like a simple enough concept to him.

"I like her – a lot," he began, hating how repetitive it sounded. "And I'm hoping she'll feel the same once she gets to know me and sees how well we live."

A frown graced Ozai's lips. "Prince Zuko, love is all about respect. I respect Azula's prodigious abilities and your perseverance. A peasant can respect a prince, but it may never be the other way around. Peasants like that girl are lowly and have qualities you should only find shameful."

"Don't call her a peasant – she=s more than just that to me!" he protested, hands clenching the fabric of his pants. "Her name is Katara and she's an incredible waterbender who will protect the Avatar and her family from anything. I have great admiration for that."

"No matter what a bender's talents may be, water will always be inferior to fire. And any woman in the Fire Nation could easily share such a maternal protectiveness," Ozai said, not taking so much as a second to consider his son's words. Leaning forward in his seat on the throne, he narrowed his eyes slightly, adding, "I'm sure Azula has told you this, but I will never bless your marriage to that peasant should you choose her as your wife. I won't allow our family's blood to be tainted."

"Father, please," he said, eyes widening at Ozai's tone, "try to understand. I don't like that I fell for her anymore than you do. I don't even know _why_ I did. But it's not something that I can change."

"Of course it is. A few weeks with the noble woman chosen to be your Fire Lady and you'll forget that waterbender even exists. It's worked for generations passed, and it will certainly work for you."

Lowering his head, Zuko studied his reflection in the well-polished floor. After a moment of contemplative silence, he bowed before rising to his feet, looking his father in the eye with a carefully controlled expression. "Thank-you for your concern. I'll keep your advice in mind for the future."

Then he turned and left, the words '_forget she exists_' echoing in his mind.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for the late update. Honestly, I just had no motivation to write last weekend, so I knew forcing myself to get this typed up and edited would result in a crappy chapter (though I'm not sure how great it is, anyway). _

_On another note, I've noticed this fic seems to be seriously lacking in humour in comarison to 'Domino Effect' and other fics. I guess it's the situation, though - hard to make jokes when everyone's at each other's throats.  
_

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't until Zuko got back to his room that he realized Katara hadn't followed him.

"_Shit_."

Turning back to the hallway, he looked from left to right, wondering which direction she could have taken. The palace was huge and he had been talking with his father for quite a while; she could be anywhere at that point.

But there were servants and guards everywhere. Surely one of them would've seen and stopped her before she could get too far. Still, he had no way of telling where she had gone or where someone would take her should she get caught – her room? His uncle's room? The palace dungeons (some or the guards working under them still felt threatened by the idea of an "enemy" living with them)?

'_I'm such an idiot!'_ he thought, gritting his teeth as he paced in front of his doorway. How could he just _leave_ without making sure Katara was with him? He had been too focused on finding his mother's picture to pay attention to the girl he had _requested_ to have brought to his room. What kind of impression did that amount of carelessness send to her?

Shaking his head (there was nothing he could do about it now), he decided to go left and search that area first. It was the direction that would've put the most distance between Katara and him while he was talking to his father.

As he rushed passed doors and tapestries and confused looking handmaidens, another worrying thought entered his mind: what if Ty Lee's chi block had already worn off? If anything like that happened, Katara could easily over-power anyone who tried to stop her and flee the palace...

'_This is bad_,' he thought, quickening his pace and glancing around the corridor for some sign of where she could have gone. '_What I wouldn't give for her blind friend's power right now..._'

"_There_ you are!" A familiar voice called, causing him to turn toward the speaker. "Look what I found!"

Pointing her out was unnecessary – a wave of relief swept over Zuko the moment he saw Katara standing in the doorway to Ty Lee's room, the aforementioned acrobat grinning widely with an arm around her shoulder (much to Katara's annoyance, if the scowl was anything to go by). Judging from the Water Tribe style braid in Ty Lee's hair, they had been in each other's company for quite some time.

"Katara!" he half-yelled, half-sighed, hurrying closer. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Why did you –"

Her glare told him he was about to ask a very stupid question.

"Right. Sorry." To Ty Lee, he bowed politely and said, "Thanks for keeping an eye on her. I needed to talk to father about... something, and I guess she took that as an opportunity to run off."

"No problem!" she said, grinning broadly. "She's really nice. Look!" She pointed to the loops of hair on either side of her face. "She taught me how she does her hair!"

Offering a tight, forced smiled (he wasn't in the mood for her airheaded antics, not when he was busy berating himself for being even _more_ airheaded and absent-minded), he nodded before steering Katara back down the hall toward his room.

"Next time I tell you to follow me," he said once they were out of the other girl's earshot, "do it. You had me worried sick."

Katara snorted, crossing her arms and refusing to look anywhere near him. "Right. Like I'm going to blindly follow you when I have the perfect chance to find Aang and get out of here." Fixing him with a glare, she added, "And I don't like you talking about me like that."

"Like what?"

"'Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Ty Lee! I guess she ran off while I was busy discussing grown-up business with daddy!'" she mimicked, voice exaggeratedly deep.

Zuko frowned. "I don't sound anything like that."

"You talk about me like I'm a disobedient toddler. I'm a fifteen year old being held against her will!"

"I told you, you'll –"

"Learn to love it – I know," Katara said, rolling her eyes and turning her gaze away from him again. "So far, it's not happening."

"That's because you refuse to give it a chance," he said, eyes narrowed in annoyance. "You're too stuck on _how_ you got here to bother appreciating anything."

"_Appreciate?"_ She screeched, following with a bitter laugh and a shake of her head. Without another word, she hurried ahead of him toward his room, which was just a few feet away, entering and seating herself on the chair by the door with a flounce.

Sensing he had said the exact opposite of what he should have, Zuko walked in behind her and sank onto the edge of his bed with a sigh. Bowing his head, he leaned forward and rested his arms across the tops of his knees. Why was it so hard to make her happy? Why was he always screwing up potentially good situations?

"So, what were _you_ running off for?" Katara asked. Her arms were folded over her chest as she leaned against the back of the chair; right leg crossed over her left, eyes locked on a pot of flowers beside her instead of the prince she was addressing.

Was it Zuko's hopeless delusions or did she sound... _curious_?

"There was something I needed to talk to my father about," he said, careful not to get too optimistic. He had been disappointed more than enough times in his life, especially where Katara was concerned.

"Oh?" Now she stared at her shoes, and he couldn't help wondering if her disinterest was feigned or sincere. "And what about that was so important you could abandon your stupid little love mission?"

Trying to hide the sting of the insult (which he _knew_ was honest), he said, "I was wondering if he might know where a portrait is. I thought I lost it, so..."

"Of who?"

"What?"

"A portrait of who?" she repeated, studying him out of the corner of her eye.

Zuko hesitated, unsure if he should tell her. What would she think if he told her his mother had mysteriously vanished when he was just a child? She would probably say Ursa was selfish and a horrible mother, which could neither agree with nor disprove.

But she might also feel sympathetic. Jet had always talked about how kind-hearted and loving she was when they worked together at the teashop (he was still having difficulty grasping this image). If he had been telling the truth, maybe talking to Katara about his missing mother might make her feel less animosity toward him.

"What's so secretive about it?" Katara pressed, apparently noticing his hesitance.

"I... It's just a portrait of my mother," he said, staring down at his hands. "I have difficulty remembering her since what happened in Ba Sing Se."

A huge understatement, but it was the truth.

Glancing up at her, he saw her expression had softened slightly, growing distant as though she had just drifted into a memory. She reached up to touch the pale blue stone on her necklace, as though it was a force of habit or some kind of reflex. "I see..."

They fell into silence. It wasn't tense or uncomfortable like their usual silences, brought on by the end of a heated argument or a comment that couldn't be answered in a remotely civil manner. It was... sad. Like the moment taken to wish a loved one's spirit a good afterlife as they were burned on the funeral pyre.

As they sat in their mute sympathy, Zuko couldn't help wondering what had caused Katara to react that way. He stared at the fingers she curled around her necklace, trying to remember its significance. She had something about it... When he captured her once she had said something...

'_My mother's necklace!' An angry waterbender was tied to a tree, blue eyes flashing with rage. 'How did you get that?'_

His heart sank. So her mother had...

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Prince Zuko," a servant started to greet. Noticing Katara, he bowed and added, "Lady Katara. Lunch is ready."

With a sigh, Katara rose from her chair, angry demeanour returning. "Guess I better get back to my room."

"Actually," Zuko said, getting to his feet and moving to stand beside her, "you're eating with the family today."

"_Great_," she said, eyes rolling. "Just what I need right now."

XxXx

"She's so _nice_," Ty Lee gushed, standing in front of a full-length mirror with two outfits choices held in front of her. Tilting her head with a slight frown, she turned to Mai and asked, "Which one do you like better?"

"Just wear your normal clothes," Mai said from where she sat on the floor, not even bothering to look up from her nails (freshly painted black, much to Ty Lee's dismay). "I don't see what the big deal is."

"Oh, come on, Mai! I know you're jealous and everything, but if you got to know her you'd see how nice she is."

"I was talking about dinner."

"Oh. Well, we hardly ever have lunch with the Fire Lord – usually it's just Azula." Ty Lee turned back to the mirror, shifting both outfits to one hand so she could finger the Water Tribe style loops at each side of her face. "You should try extra-hard to impress Fire Lord Ozai so he arranges for you to marry Zuko. Do you think Azula would be upset if I wore my hair like this?"

"She'd kill you," Mai deadpanned, looking from her nails to her friend. "Plus, it looks ridiculous."

"It's –"

"Water Tribe. You're having lunch with the Fire Lord."

Sighing, she turned back to the mirror and started undoing the loops. "I guess you're right. But it was _so_ –"

"I still don't see a point to this," Mai cut in, if only to prevent herself from hearing the word 'cute' again. "We'll just eat the same food as always at a big fancy table where we have to keep our mouths shut and listen to the royal family pat each other on the back. It's almost as bad as home."

"Yeah, but where the royal family is, _Zuko_ is," Ty Lee said with a grin.

"I already told you not to bother with that. He likes Katara – end of story."

"That's only because he doesn't know his other options. If you show that you're available to him, it won't be long 'til he changes his mind."

Sighing, Mai rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall. "Fine. But you're not doing a make-over."

"Can I at least just –"

"No."

* * *

Author's Notes: _Uh... Yeah. Not a whole lot to say about this chapter. I'm kinda happy with it (though I can't help feeling the Mai/Ty Lee conversation is awkward and possibly OOC), but I dunno. :/ Tell me what you think. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	7. Chapter 7

In the unnecessarily huge palace dining room, Katara sat at Zuko's left, terrifyingly close to where Fire Lord Ozai was seated at the head of the table, studying her critically. Seeing him in person for the first time was a bit of a surprise, since she had always pictured him to look and behave as savagely as his war. Instead, he was well-mannered and well-groomed, a fact that only served to make him more intimidating.

Why did they have to sit so close to him, anyway? The table was designed to accommodate fifty people; they could be numbers twenty and twenty-one instead of two and three.

It didn't help that Azula sat across from Zuko with Mai and Ty Lee at her side (Mai opposite Katara and Ty Lee from Iroh, who sat at Katara's left). The siblings kept trading suspicious, heated gazes, creating a tense and unwelcoming atmosphere.

"So..." Zuko started, smiling nervously as he glanced from his father to Katara and back again. "This is the girl I was telling you about."

Ozai said nothing, just continued to stare at her with narrowed golden eyes. It was all Katara could do not to squirm in her seat.

At the other side of the table, Ty Lee gave a stone-faced Mai an exaggerated wink. When she failed to respond to the cue, Ty Lee kicked her under the table.

Flinching with a grunt of pain, Mai sent her an angry stare (slightly narrowed eyes, mouth pulled into a small frown) for the briefest of moments before turning toward Zuko. With obvious reluctance, she asked, "So... Do you want to go on a palanquin ride together sometime?"

"What?" Distracted from his panic over his father and dream girl's interaction – or lack thereof – Zuko blinked at her in confusion. "Uh, I dunno. Sure. Fine."

Beaming, Ty Lee flashed her friend a not-so-subtle thumbs-up. At the other end of the table, someone cleared their throat loudly.

Turning toward the sound, her grin wavered slightly when she met Azula's glare. With a shake of her head, Azula's gaze flicked over to where Zuko and Katara sat as if to say, '_Don't mess this up.'_

Silent and unnoticed, Iroh watched the exchanges with interest. I didn't take long for him to put two and two together, not that any of it came as a surprise – Mai's feelings for Zuko had never been much of a secret, and Azula was always doing things for personal benefit.

The problem was he couldn't be sure what exactly she had in mind this time. What could she possibly gain from Zuko being head-over-heels for Katara?

'_Regardless of her reasoning_,' he thought, listening as Zuko struggled to strike up a conversation between his father and Katara, '_I must watch her closely. Prince Zuko is too trusting of her._'

When their food finally arrived, it was eaten quickly and in silence.

XxXx

"You know, I thought this'd be easier for you," Sokka said, out of breath as they hiked through the forest for the third day. It was taking them an unreasonably long amount of time to reach their destination, due to constant rest stops and even more constant arguments.

"Why?" Jet asked somewhat defensively, sparing him a curious look. It was the most civil conversation they had had since the start of the whole ordeal.

"'Cause you're a Freedom Fighter. You lived in the trees."

"Yeah, in tree houses. We didn't actually do a lot of moving around on the ground. Besides, the forests here are way different."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Toph cut in, causing the pair to pause and look back. One eyebrow raised, she pointed a finger in the general direction of Jet and asked, "Did you meet Twinkle Toes and Co. while you were living in the trees like a monkey-parrot?"

"Uh... Yeah."

She threw her head back, letting out a cackle. "Oh, that's _rich_! Queen Bee and Sugar Queen sitting in the trees, K-I-S-S-"

"Cut it out!" Jet snapped, scowling. Beside him, Sokka struggled to restrain a snicker.

"You have to admit, it _is_ funny," he said when the other male sent him a glare. "And look on the bright side – you finally earned yourself a nickname!"

"Well, right now I don't _want_ a nickname," he muttered, turning to continue forward. "I want revenge."

The laughter died away. Frowning, Sokka hurried to keep up, saying, "Look, we're all upset and we all want Zuko and the Fire Lord to get what they deserve, but –"

"But what?" he said, stopping so abruptly the other boy almost ran into him. "We need to plan every move like this is a Pai Sho game and there's not people's lives at stake?"

"No," he said, eyes narrowing at the harsh jab. "I was going to say that being angry and obsessed won't help anything."

Resuming his pace, Jet said, "Says you – look at all the good my Freedom Fighters did, all because we never forgot our cause."

"No one here is forgetting our goal!" Sokka shouted in return, the rising voices sending birds squawking from their nests. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't your little obsession lead you to flood an entire village to get rid of a few Fire Nation troops, regardless of all the innocent people living in it?"

Jet turned on him, forcing the other two to come to yet another sudden halt. "I told you to never mention that again!"

"Why? Because you can't stand admitting you've done something wrong?"

He gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. "At least I'm willing to take risks! You won't even do that for your own sister!"

"Why you –"

"You guys are being ridiculous!" Toph bellowed, stomping her foot to punctuate the last word. The pair stopped fighting long enough to turn and glare at her. "Screaming at each other like a bunch of enraged hog-monkeys isn't gonna help anymore than sulking or obsessing over revenge! We're lucky a Fire Nation soldier didn't hear you two dunderheads!"

"It's his –"

"I don't care if he took a dump in your sleeping bag – screaming and fighting isn't gonna help us get Katara or Aang back, especially not this close to the palace!"

Jet and Sokka were silent and scowling, refusing to meet her or each other's gaze.

"Now apologize and hug!"

"_What_?" Sokka said, gaze snapping toward her with an expression caught between bewilderment and revulsion. "Okay, apologizing I can handle, but I am _not_ hugging him."

"Whatever. Shake hands or something. Just don't do this again!"

As the two boys muttered "sorry" and "I was being an idiot" to each other, Toph continued forward with clenched fists and a set jaw. The sooner they were able to get Katara and Aang back, the better; she wasn't cut out for peace-making or mothering, let alone _both_ jobs.

XxXx

"Again."

"I've already done it ten times!"

"And every time was wrong. We're not moving on until you get it right."

With a frustrated growl, Zuko resumed his stance. Breathing deep, he slid through the steps with skill and ease, each sharp motion followed by a burst flame. From where she sat watching on the sidelines (completely against her will), Katara saw nothing wrong.

"Again."

But Iroh apparently did.

"Perhaps you should take a break, nephew. Your impatience seems to be interfering with your control."

Zuko said nothing, simply stomping over to where Katara sat and grabbing the towel that lay beside her. Wiping the sweat from his face, he muttered something about a crazed uncle and impossible expectations. He slung the towel around his neck and sank down beside Katara, crossing his legs and closing his eyes (because he had no doubt in the world that his Iroh was going to tell him to meditate), his breath soon slowing to a rhythmic pace.

Watching him, Katara wondered at how an element so destructive and uncontrollable could require such peaceful exercises. The concept of steady breathing connecting with the demolition of an entire village didn't make any sense to her.

Though, firebending in general didn't make much sense. How could someone _create_ fire out of thin air? It wasn't at all like the other elements, and maybe that was part of what made it so terrifying.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh said, interrupting both teens' thoughts. He sat opposite them on the training grounds – which used to be an outdoor Agni Kai arena but hadn't been used for that purpose in years – a cup of steaming tea in his hands and a sly grin on his face.

Cracking an eye open, Zuko scowled at him. "What? I'm not _meditating_ wrong, am I?"

"Why don't you teach Miss Katara about firebending?" he suggested, ignoring his nephew's comment. "Learning about the other elements is greatly beneficial, and perhaps reviewing the basics will help you master this technique."

"Uncle, I already _know_ the basics! I don't need to –"

"Don't you want Miss Katara to develop an interest in Fire Nation culture?"

He said nothing in return, instead turning to face Katara with a slightly softened expression, muttering, "Dragons were the first firebenders. People of the Fire Nation learned firebending by studying their breath of fire."

"Dragons?" she cut in, raising an eyebrow. Despite her dislike of him and his country, she couldn't help feeling intrigued. "I thought they were just myths."

"Well, they're extinct now because..." he hesitated but didn't continue, though Katara couldn't be sure it was reluctance to explain or simply not remembering. "A-anyway, firebending doesn't work the same as the other elements; it's almost entirely internal. We draw energy and control from our breath like the dragons did, using our inner flame to turn the heat around us into fire."

"Is that why you have to meditate?"

He nodded, staring at his hands folded on his lap. They fell into silence.

Taking the moment to study him, Katara wondered how he could be an obnoxious, self-centered jerk _and_ a shy, well-intentioned teenager at the same time. She thought back to her rather one-sided conversation with Ty Lee, in which the other girl alternated between gushing over her hair and telling her how lucky she was to have "such a nice guy like Zuko" like her.

Never in her life had Katara imagined 'nice guy' and 'Zuko' being used together with positive connotations. Not with the memories of him chasing down Aang, attacking her village and stealing her necklace and tying her to a tree. There was nothing 'nice' about that, or the way he tended to talk to his uncle.

Not to mention the fact that Ty Lee went on to say that he was brave, selfless, handsome, "shy like a little badger-puppy", and a dozen other things that made absolutely no sense. It made her wonder if they were talking about the same person.

Brave she could understand (she had seen him in battle, after all), and definitely shy given the way he (_usually_) acted around her. But _nice_?_ Selfless_?_ Handsome_?

It must've been a part of Ty Lee's optimistic nature, seeing only the good things in a person.

Or it could've been a result of Fire Nation propaganda.

She was interrupted from her thoughts when something warm brushed against her hand. With a start, she discovered Zuko had moved closer and was cupping her hands in his own, staring down at their palms (she wasn't sure if it was just so he could avoid eye-contact). It took her a moment to realize he was speaking.

"– not the same as creating your own fire, but I think it might have a similar feeling."

Make her own fire? What was he _talking_ about?

A flame sparked to life above her palm, causing her to jump, yelping. Unfortunately, the combination of her movement and Zuko's resulting surprise made the fire flicker violently, growing to twice its size for the briefest of moments.

But it was long enough.

With a shout, Katara snatched her hand away and cradled it against her chest, the burn small but searing. It was Aang's first firebending lesson all over again.

"I'm _so_ sorry!" Zuko's voice said from somewhere far too close. Hands were grabbing at her, one rested tentatively on her shoulder, the other reaching for her injured hand. "Are you okay? Let me see."

Water – she needed water. _Then_ she would be okay. But her bending... She couldn't heal while her chi was blocked.

"Uncle? I think she's hurt!"

"Katara?" It was Iroh this time. He had a gentle grip on her arm and was pulling her to her feet, saying, "come – the palace nurse should have something to treat your burn."

Ten minutes later, after Iroh and Zuko had guided Katara across the grounds and through the palace, the trio sat in a small infirmary. A young man held Katara's wrist in one hand, using the other to rub ointment onto her burnt palm. Wincing, Katara hissed in pain and instinctively jerked away.

Someone placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know it hurts, but you have to –"

"What do you know about –" she turned to face him, glaring, only to be met by golden eyes, one framed with red, mangled flesh. She abruptly stopped talking.

It was amazing how quickly a scar could change from a hideously disfiguring mark to just a part of someone's face.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Not overly pleased with this chapter, but I guess it's alright. :/ Hope you guys like it. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	8. Chapter 8

'_I'm an idiot._'

Zuko lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and berating himself a few hours after the accident. Katara was in her own room, minor burn wrapped in bandages and handmaidens waiting on her every need. The doctor said she would be fine, just in pain and unable to put much strain on her hand while it healed.

He _burned_ her.

What was he thinking? She didn't what to 'make' fire – she hadn't even wanted to be there watching him practice. But _no_, he had to try and show her what firebending felt like, had to be hopelessly hopeful about changing her views of him and his element,

Iroh said he shouldn't be so hard on himself, that Katara would understand he had been well-intentioned.

But he had been well-intentioned since the day he brought her to the palace and it only seemed to make her hate him _more_, so he wasn't sure how helpful that was.

It didn't help that his father seemed to despise her. The only way to make him change his opinion of her was to make him respect her, which he had already made clear would never happen. Not unless Katara suddenly developed amazing firebending and a higher status.

If only he would listen – then he would realize how incredible Katara was. It wouldn't matter that she was a peasant from an inferior nation, because everything else about her would overshadow that.

It would be so much easier if Zuko could just take him back to his time in Ba Sing Se. If _he_ fell for such a routinely infuriating girl because he spied on some of her better moments, surely his father would at least warm up to her.

And, if Iroh was right, he wasn't the only one against the idea of him being with Katara. Mai was jealous. Zuko had thought her feelings were just a childhood crush, like his. Apparently not.

It seemed like only Ty Lee, Azula, and his uncle approved of his feelings for Katara. Not even _Katara_ was okay with it. Though, that would change if things went his way.

A knock at the door interrupted his musings.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he called, "Come in."

And in walked the object of his thoughts.

Well, one of them.

"Mai? What are you doing here?"

Leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, she said, "Waiting for that palanquin ride you promised."

Palanquin ride? When did he –

Oh. Right. At lunch.

Running his fingers through his hair (it would have to go back in a topknot), he became increasingly aware of the fact that he had yet to change out of his training clothes. Expressionless or not, Mai's eyes were wandering.

"Uh... Can you give me a minute to change?"

"Sure," she said in the usual monotone, turning to leave his room. "Whatever."

After hurrying to change clothes, tie his hair back, and scold himself for not paying attention when he agreed to things, Zuko met Mai in the hall. For a moment, they stood in silence, she staring somewhere off to her left, he studying his shoes.

"So..." he said, finally looking up at her as he scratched the back of his neck and smiled nervously. "Guess we better go get that ride."

Wordlessly, she walked passed him in the direction of the palace's front entrance, where the palanquin and its bearers would be waiting. Just from that short, awkward moment, Zuko could tell it was going to be a long day.

How long did he agree to stay with her? Was it just one ride? He hoped it was just one; he didn't think he could handle an entire day with her – not it she kept quiet (like always). But what if she asked to go on another ride? How did he get out of that without –

A sigh pulled him out of his thoughts. They had just settled themselves in the palanquin, the unfortunate servants given the task of carrying it waiting for his cue to start.

"If you don't want to do this," Mai said, staring down at her hands folded on her lap, "you don't have to."

"No, that's not it. I just –"

"Would rather spend the day with that peasant," she finished for him, already climbing off the palanquin (its carriers were grumbling in confusion and annoyance). "It's fine. I expected as much."

"No," he said, climbing off after her, the feeling that he had just acted like a jerk gnawing at his gut and his conscience. If he was being _that_ obvious about not wanting to ride with her...

Grabbing her shoulder before she could leave (was it a trick of the light, or did he detect of hint of pink on her cheeks?), he continued, "I promised a ride with you and I don't go back on my word. Besides, I haven't seen you in years – this could be a good chance to catch up."

For whatever reason, the idea of catching up didn't seem to appeal to Mai. Nonetheless, she let Zuko steer her back onto the palanquin, where they sat in silence for the first five minutes of their ride.

"So... I heard you were travelling with Azula."

She nodded, but said nothing.

"... How'd that happen?"

"She said she was tracking you and needed some allies."

Tracking him? Mai had been helping Azula hunt him down so he could be imprisoned, possibly _executed_, for treason? What had happened to having a huge crush on him? Last time he checked, a person was supposed to _protect_ you when they loved you.

Though, according to Ozai, you had to respect a person before you could care about them, and being an exile didn't exactly warrant respect. The concept still didn't sit right with him, but if his father said so...

They had fallen into silence again. He wracked his brain for another topic of small talk, something Mai would be able to say a lot about.

"What've you been up to since I was exiled?"

"Being a good little girl so I don't jeopardize my father's career while he conquered Omashu in Fire Lord Ozai's name. The usual boring stuff."

And then they were back to sitting silently in each other's company, Mai stiff backed and staring dead ahead, Zuko slumped down and eyeing his fingernails. _She_ wished _he_ would fill the emptiness where conversation should've been; _he_ wished _she_ would ask him a question so he could talk.

As they sat together mutely, Zuko tried to remember why exactly he had had a crush on Mai as a kid (or, for that matter, why he remembered things about her and Ty Lee and his uncle, but nothing about his mother or grandfather or Lu Ten). She had always been so quiet and closed-off, hanging back while Azula and Ty Lee played, using perfect manners on the off-chance that she did speak. Back then, he had thought she was like him – shy – but at that moment he understood that it was just how she was raised. Don't have an opinion unless it will benefit you or your family, don't speak unless spoken to, always remain poised...

In some ways, he could relate. After all, if it weren't for his father's strict views on respect and discipline, he never would've been sent after Aang.

Finally, after ten minutes that passed like an hour, Mai said, "This whole thing was Ty Lee's idea. I told her it was stupid."

Glancing over at her, Zuko asked, "What whole thing?"

"Riding with you. She thought spending time with me would make you forget about that peasant."

"Her name's Katara," he immediately corrected.

"I knew it wouldn't work," she sighed, a trace of disappointment in her tone and expression (which Zuko failed to notice). To the men carrying them, she said, "We'd like to go back to the palace, now."

Obediently, the servants turned around and headed in the direction from which they came. Zuko's guilt resurfaced – stomach-knotting and heart-sinking – making the ride back worse than the ride out.

XxXx

Sitting with her back against the foot of her bed, Katara practiced flexing her bandaged hand. It hurt – a lot – but the wrapping was holding together and the special tea Iroh had brewed for her an hour earlier was starting to ease some of the pain (even if it _did_ make her a bit dizzy and loopy).

"Loopy," she giggled. "I have loopies!"

She couldn't help wondering where Zuko was. Didn't he always order to have her brought to his room around this time? Maybe he felt bad for hurting her. He certainly _looked_ bad.

Er, like he felt bad.

... Actually, he didn't look so bad. Not the left side of his face, at least (her left, not his). Were there any old portraits of him she could look at? Iroh probably knew. Where was Iroh? Making anti-guilt tea for Zuko, probably.

"Anti-guilt tea," she said to herself with another giggle. It sounded like something Sokka would say. Was she on cactus juice, like he was in the desert?

She missed Sokka. It would be nice to escape and find him, but her chi was all blocked off. Could chi flow get clogged like the drainage holes in the ice up north?

Hopefully Aang was okay – it had been an awfully long time since they had been captured. But he _had_ to be okay, since Zuko had promised not to kill him. Was he being fed? Maybe he was being given cactus juice as a sedative.

"Oh, isn't _this_ a lovely sight?"

It was Azula, standing in the doorway with an arched brow and one hand on her hip. Katara thought it was impolite of her not to knock, but wasn't sure if she could say that to royalty.

Well, she could say it to Zuko, but she had seen him working in a teashop and wearing an apron, so he didn't really count.

She giggled again.

Stepping forward, Azula clasped her hands behind her back and said, "You know, father is really quite fond of you. I bet he would love it if you became a part of our little family."

Wrinkling her nose, Katara said, "Ew. That would mean I have to marry _Zuko_!"

"Really, I can't blame you for that standpoint," she agreed with a curl of her lip. "But sometimes sacrifices need to be made for the greater good. If you marry Zuzu –"

"Hehee. Zuzu."

" – he would surely agree to let your precious Avatar roam free after we've secured Ba Sing Se."

What? Marry Zuko? Free Aang? Lose Ba Sing Se? Katara's head was starting to spin, and it wasn't from tea-induced dizziness.

"I don't... But we're supposed to... Sokka said..."

Holding one hand out in a silencing gesture, Azula said, "It's just a suggestion. I recommend you consider it – father's nervous keeping the Avatar so close, even if your little friends don't plan to attack until Sozin's Comet."

"Nuh-uh!" Katara protested, sitting up straight and defiant. It only lasted a moment before she started losing her balance and had to lean back against the bed again. "There's an eclipse really soon. We're attacking then, since you'll be powerless without your bending."

Azula's eyebrows shot up. "_Really?_ Well, thank-you for informing me – I'm sure father will _love_ you for sharing."

With that, she turned on her heel and flounced from the room. In her intoxicated state, Katara failed to notice her devilish smirk.

XxXx

Twenty minutes later someone else appeared at her door.

Clamouring to her feet, Katara crossed the ten steps between them and collapsed against him. "Hello, Zuzu!" Grinning uncharacteristically wide, she nuzzled her head against his chest, sighing contentedly. "You're warm. Why are you so warm? You're like a blanket left over a campfire."

After staring down at her for a bewildered moment, Zuko pried her away from him and held her at arm's length, eyeing her suspiciously. "Okay, what happened to you?"

As much as he loved the fact that she was trying to hug him, it was too bizarre not to question.

"What happened to _you_?" she giggled, poking him in the chest. "No one came to drag me away to your room."

I had... plans," he said, staring down at where her finger remained pressed against his shirt. Somehow, he didn't like the idea of telling her he had been with Mai, his childhood crush and sister's ally (even if she didn't know the former detail). "You still haven't answered my question."

"I'm fine," she said, leaning into him once more. "Iroh gave me tea that tasted awful and made me all dizzy, but now my hand doesn't hurt. Look!" She held up the bandaged extremity, balling it into a fist.

With a groan, Zuko squeezed his eyes shut. Of course – uncle's potent 'healing tea' was still a fresh memory in his mind, made worse when sailing on a nausea-inducing warship. It was the cause of the one and only time he agreed to play the tsungi horn on music night.

Which was why it made perfect (_disappointing_) sense that Katara was all smiles and clinginess around him. That stuff could have her out of sorts for hours, depending on the dosage.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," he said, trying to steer her toward the aforementioned piece of furniture. "You need to sleep this off."

"But I'm not tired!"

Looking to the sky, he took a deep breath, trying to hold onto his patience (always thin, it had been worn down even more by his frustratingly quiet outing with Mai). Drugged or not, Katara was stubborn and wouldn't budge easily. If he wanted things to go his way, he would have to use a little force.

"Hey! Put me down!" she squealed, slapping at him weakly as he scooped her into his arms and proceeded to carry her across the room. However, after he tossed her onto the bed and turned to leave, she latched onto his arm. "No! Stay! You're warm!"

After repeatedly trying to tug himself free and realizing his efforts were in vain, Zuko decided he would have to heat her up to get her to let go. Thankfully, he knew a method of doing so that would prevent him from having to cuddle up to her, falling asleep, and being violently awakened by an enraged and very sober Katara. It was something his father used to do before tucking him into bed when he was younger.

"Get under the blankets," he instructed, relieved when she did so without complaint. He then proceeded to hot air under the sheets, creating a pocket of warmth for her to lie in.

"Thanks, Zuzuko!" she said, grinning widely and throwing her arms around his neck before he could move away.

With a muttered "You're welcome", he pulled himself free and hurried from the room.

Iroh would be hearing a word or two from him.

XxXx

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't _that_ bad," Ty Lee said, smiling sadly at Mai, who had curled up on her bed and was refusing to speak.

She said nothing, simply pulling the sheets farther over her head. As one might expect, the bedding – and every other fabric in the room – was a dark, almost black shade of red. What was surprising was the fact that her room featured one of the largest windows in the entire palace, overlooking the old Agni Kai arena.

Though she had never brought it up, Ty Lee suspected Mai liked things that way because she could watch Zuko while he trained.

"Well, what exactly happened?" she asked, yanking the sheets away from her friend's face.

"Nothing," she said, putting a pillow in their place.

"Oh, come on – if nothing happened you wouldn't be this –" she cut off, eyes widening with sudden understanding. "_Oh_. You mean... _nothing_? At all?"

"He hardly even talked. And he didn't look too thrilled when I showed up at his door."

Letting out a sympathetic whine, Ty Lee bent down, arms outstretched –

"Don't even think about it."

Drawing back, she settled for stroking Mai's head (much to the other girl's annoyance), saying, "Well, I'm sure there's _something_ we can do. Maybe if you spent a little time with Katara –"

"I don't want anything to do with that –"

"– you could figure out what he likes about her and take advantage of it," she continued, raising her voice to be heard over Mai's protests. Detecting her surprise at the suggestion, Ty Lee beamed with pride.

Take advantage...? Mai almost wanted to smile at the plan forming in her mind (_almost_).

It certainly wasn't what Ty Lee was thinking, but it would get Katara out of the way.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry this is so late! Honestly, last week I didn't have enough of a chapter completed to post, and even if I _did_ I was short on time. But this chapter is a bit longer than usual, I think, so hopefully that makes up for it. _

_Anyway. This chapter was tricky to write, since there was a lot of focus on Mai and Zuko's interaction, and I wanted to get across incompatibility without coming off extremely anti-Maiko or anti-Mai (truthfully, I actually really like Mai - just not how she ended up getting developed in the show). Katara was fun to write, though. I'm not sure if she's on medicinal tea, or if Iroh spiked it with alcohol. xD You guys can decide.  
_

_I hope it was worth the wait! Tell me what you think. :3_

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters.**


	9. Chapter 9

Lying awake in bed, Katara stared up at her darkened ceiling with a feeling of dread growing deep in her stomach. Whatever Iroh had given her had worn off, bringing throbbing pain to her hand but a clear head.

A clear head that remembered exactly what she had told Azula.

Everything was ruined. The Fire Lord knew what they were planning, had the Avatar locked up tight, and certainly wasn't about to let Katara send out a warning to her friends. They would be sitting turtle-ducks, charging the palace without their strongest weapons (Aang and surprise), only to be brutally slaughtered by an army prepared for a battle without firebending.

She had to get out. And fast.

But how? When Zuko wasn't at her side, a guard was at her door, not to mention her constantly blocked chi. Plus, even if she _could_ waterbend, one of her hands was injured and screamed with pain at the slightest strain. One-handed waterbending was possible, but it took _practice_, something she didn't have the time or ability to do.

'_We are _so_ screwed,'_ she thought, sinking further into her pillow and placing both hands over her face.

Maybe Iroh would... No. As nice as the old man was, he was far too loyal to Zuko to do something like that (and, as he had told her while he was brewing her 'special tea', "Zuko will never learn if I fix all his foolish mistakes.").

The thought of 'special tea' brought about another concern – how long had she been asleep? The last thing she remembered was being a total goof when Zuko came to visit her, and she couldn't see outside well enough to have a clear idea of the time. All she knew was that it was light out when she fell asleep and it was dark now that she was awake.

Regardless of whether it was early evening or midnight, Katara wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon.

Not that there was much else to do; she was being held captive by a guy who did a really poor job of expressing his feelings and wouldn't let her go anywhere unless it was with himself or someone he trusted.

Still, it couldn't hurt to ask if she could stretch her legs, right?

Climbing out of bed, she tiptoed to her door (only to quickly remember that she was trying to get someone's attention, not sneaking around), calling to the guard on the other side, "Excuse me?" At his grunt of a reply, she asked, "Do you know if there's anywhere I'm allowed to go? I can't sleep."

"Prince Zuko has informed me that you are not allowed anywhere but your room or his, unless he states otherwise."

_Zuko's_ room? That was the _last_ place she wanted to be at that moment.

Then she remembered what his room actually looked like – bigger than hers, with actual windows and a desk with filled drawers, portraits and paintings and even a set of swords decorating the walls... It might all belong to the person she least wanted to be around, but it would be something to focus on until morning.

Besides, Zuko would be asleep, so it wasn't like she would actually have to deal with him.

"Alright. Take me to his room."

The guard opened the door, grabbing her by the elbow before she could even think of moving (not that she planned to – it would be a wasted effort). Then, without a word, he guided her down the dim corridor, holding up a fistful of fire to light the way. Somehow, the palace seemed bigger and increasingly foreign when immersed in darkness.

Swinging the door open to Zuko's room, the guard shoved her inside, closing and locking the door an instant later. Rooted to the spot, Katara waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, all the while listening for the prince's reaction to her presence.

The only sound was calm, even breathing.

As her vision cleared and focused, she noted that Zuko was still in a dead sleep, the side of his face smooshed against his pillow, his hair a tousled mess. He lay scar down.

'_Good,_' she thought, moving toward his desk, where she sat and slid open a drawer. '_At least now I don't have to worry about him annoying me._'

Sometime later, while she was studying a portrait of him from when he was younger (how could such an awful person be so _cute_ as a kid?), the sound of rustling sheets and murmuring distracted her. Turning in her chair, she was surprised to see that Zuko had kicked away the blankets, tossing and turning with a face scrunched in... pain? Fear? Confusion? It was a mix of emotions, tangled together in his expression like the blankets at his feet, hard to distinguish but clearly not pleasant. He murmured something, but it was unintelligible.

Watching him, Katara bit her lip and wondered if there was something she should do. It was obvious he was having a nightmare, and doing so with as much distress as Aang often did.

'_But he's a terrible person – he _should_ have nightmares after what he's done!'_

Somehow, it was hard to believe that sentiment while holding a portrait of him as in innocent toddler.

Sighing ('_Why am I doing this?_'), she slipped off the chair and instead sat on the edge of his bed, watching him a moment longer and trying to decide if there was anything she _could_ do aside from waking him.

He rolled over – closer – his teeth gritted, forehead creased, hands balled into fists as he let out what was clearly more of a frightened whine than actual words.

Hesitantly, Katara placed her uninjured hand on his forehead (it was damp with sweat), gently stroking his face the way she remembered her gran-gran doing when Sokka would have nightmares about their father in the war. However, instead of taking comfort in her touch, Zuko pushed her hand away, seeming more panic-stricken.

Only, he didn't let go of her wrist after swatting it away; he held on tight like it was some sort of lifeline, squeezing so hard Katara wondered if he might crush her bones. Gently, she pried away his fingers and readjusted so he could grip her hand instead of her wrist.

Then she just sat, waiting for his nightmare to pass.

XxXx

It was that dream again.

The one that started out as a memory of his scarring and, just when his father was about to release a handful of fire, shifted to when he had murdered Long Feng, the flames now coming from his fist and turning Long Feng's face to ash. That pile of cinders became a mountain on which he and his father and Azula stood, watching the Comet soar through the atmosphere, crashing into the Earth and setting everything ablaze. Below them, the Avatar and his allies and everyone else in the world melted and screamed and died. All the while, his mother (or some subconscious representation of her) looked at him with disappointment and anger, chanting, "How could you? How could you? How could you?"

It was at this point that he would always jolt awake with a shout, sweating and panting. This time was no different.

Except for the fact that someone was holding his hand.

"... Katara?"

The hand broke free.

"I couldn't sleep and figured your room might actually have something of interest in it," she quickly explained, sounding defensive. He couldn't see her expression in the dark, but he had a feeling she was scowling. "Then you started having a bad dream, so..."

As she spoke, Zuko blinked up at her. She had... comforted him? Completely of her own will, without pressure from his uncle or anyone else? With no hidden motives or schemes, like Azula would? It was enough to send his heart soaring, a welcome change from the painful, hammering pulse his dream had caused.

"Thank-you."

The silence that followed made him wonder if she had fallen asleep.

"What was it about?"

"What?" He turned toward her, trying to read her expression. However, the moonlight was at her back and casting deep shadows on her face. He considered creating a flame on his palm, but, remembering burning her earlier, decided against it.

"Your dream," she elaborated. "What was it about?"

The images flashed through his mind, making his stomach clench and heart race. "Nothing."

"Didn't _look_ like nothing."

"Well, it was."

"No, it wasn't. Tell me."

Opening his mouth to protest, he hesitated – did he _really_ want to argue when Katara was finally showing genuine interest and concern for him? It may protect him from talking about his fears and past and showing himself at his weakest, but it could also push her further away, more out of reach than she already was. Was his pride worth that?

Sighing, he pushed himself upright, keeping his head bowed so his bangs covered most of his face as he said, "It was... It was just about my scarring and what happened with Long Feng..." He decided it was best not to mention the Comet and the chanting.

Again, there was silence, this time feeling tense and uncomfortable, like when they had discussed their late mothers.

His mattress shifted, indicating Katara had stood up. "I'm... sorry. I guess it's not really any of my business."

He heard the rustle of clothing and light footsteps more than he saw her movement in the moonlight. Stopping at the door, she told the guard on the other side to return her to her room and, as the door opened, glanced back (just barely) before disappearing into the dim corridor.

_A woman glanced back at him as she pulled a hood over her head, fading from view as she moved into the candle-lit hall._

"_Never forget..."_

Blinking at the sudden recollection, Zuko tried to place the voice and blurred face. It seemed so familiar, so obvious, an explanation that was right on the tip of his tongue yet completely out of reach. Wracking, his brain, he tried to figure out who had left him with such secrecy. What was he not supposed to forget? Why was it that his memories only returned when he was off-guard and not prepared to memorize details?

But even if the faint memory had left him almost as quickly as it came, he had a feeling it was of his mother.

XxXx

"Hey."

Looking up from the scroll she was reading (she had swiped it from Zuko's bookshelf before she left), Katara was surprised to see Mai standing in her doorway, leaning against its frame with her arms crossed.

"Uh... hi?"

"Is it any good?" Mai asked in her usual deadpan, pale gold gaze staring at her with unnerving steadiness.

"What?"

"The story," she said, gesturing to the scroll spread across her lap, "is it any good?"

"Oh." Katara looked down at the text and paintings, trying to kick her shocked brain into remembering what she had been reading. "Yeah. Actually, it's a story Aang used to tell me about."

Almost immediately, she regretted her use of the past tense. Aang was imprisoned but _alive_; there was no need to talk about him as if he were dead.

Watching as her forehead creased and lips pulled into a frown, Mai wondered what the other girl was thinking about. Not that it mattered – as long as her plan was executed properly, she would be happy.

The scheme itself was simple. Talk to Katara until she was trusting (or at least comfortable), take her for a walk, and kill her as soon as they were somewhere they would be neither seen nor heard. The hardest part would be the first step, since they were enemies and, well, Mai wasn't exactly skilled with conversation. Especially not with people she planned to murder.

"Want to go for a walk or something?" she blurted. When Katara raised an eyebrow, she wondered for an instant if she was being too suspicious – going up and talking to someone without reason wasn't exactly in her nature, particularly when that someone was a potential-boyfriend stealing wh-

"Isn't it raining?"

"What?"

"Isn't it raining today?" she repeated, already turned toward her room's tiny window and trying to determine the weather.

It was, and would probably be all day. Mai had known since early morning but had overlooked that small detail while forming her plan, too eager to get rid of her competition to consider things fully. Thinking fast, she said, "I thought waterbenders liked the rain."

Chewing her lip, Katara seemed to consider her options, already rolling up the scroll on her lap. All the while, Mai mentally checked her inventory of knives and ran through a few attack plans. She knew form past battles that the other girl was fast, but speed would only help so much when she was unarmed and her bending was useless...

"Sure," Katara said, tossing the story aside and sliding off the large bed. "It's been a while since I could properly stretch my legs."

Leading the oblivious girl out into the hall, Mai couldn't help the feeling of satisfaction or adrenaline rush at having things start off so well.

Outside, the air was bitter cold, with harsh gusts of wind and icy rain pelting their heads. Mai knew from experience that the miserable weather could easily escalate into a full-out storm, something she always dreaded (being stuck inside was so _boring_). They walked in silence for the first while, headed down the long, seemingly endless path toward the gates, which lead out to the capital. No one was outside except them and a few statue-still guards.

Finally, looking toward the grey sky, Katara said, "Must be nice living in a place like this."

"You live here, too," Mai pointed out, glancing at her through already-sopping wet bangs.

"Not of my own will," she snorted. "You were born into this. I was kidnapped."

She didn't know why she said it. Maybe it was because she couldn't help feeling annoyed at Katara's attitude, her blatant disregard for her luck with Zuko and having things dropped into her lap, regardless of status or behaviour or appreciation. Maybe she was just tired of hearing Ty Lee and Zuko and the servants shout their praises for Katara, ignoring the fact that everything about her reeked of peasantry and she had no place in a high-class society such as theirs. Maybe it was just nerves at what she intended to do. Whatever the reason, Mai decided that – for once – she was going to be completely honest.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

Katara's gaze snapped toward her, eyes narrowing and voice rising with each syllable. "Ex_cuse_ _me_?"

"Prince Zuko offers you the life of a princess for nothing in exchange, and you act like he's some sort of prison warden. Everyone loves you, and you hate everyone. You don't even get in trouble for speaking out of turn or your horrible posture."

Her back went board-straight, though Mai couldn't but sure if it was in insult or an attempt at better poise. "You have _no_ idea what I've been through –"

"What? Going from peasant to international hero to royalty? Gee, that must be awful."

"Hardly," she spat, lips a thin, angry line. By this point they had stopped walking and stood across from each other on the path. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the rain seemed to come down a little harder. "First of all, I grew up with _your_ country raiding my village –"

"From what I hear it's an ice block. We probably just warmed it up."

"- _destroying_ what little we had and killing my mother! Then the men had to go off to fight, and I spent every day wondering if my dad was dead or alive! But then I find Aang, and for once I was able to feel a little hope. But could the Fire Nation let that happen? _No_, you have to send Zuko chasing after us, every second of every day to the point that we're afraid to sleep!"

"Except for the part where he loves you," Mai pointed out bitterly, hugging herself in an attempt to fend off the growing chill.

Katara let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah. Right. He sent a bunch of pirates to capture me so he could bait Aang – that's hardly loving."

With a slight frown, she tried to make sense of this new bit of information. How did someone go from Avatar bait to the love of your life? How did someone like _Katara_ go from Avatar bait to the love of your life?

Sensing her confusion, Katara explained, "Ba Sing Se. He worked in a teashop with my boyfriend and suddenly decided he was crazy for me after spying on us and stalking me as the Blue Spirit." Mai opened her mouth to question this, but Katara ignored her and continued, "After we went our separate ways, he found me here, in the Fire Nation, and kidnapped me along with Aang. So I have no idea what's happened to my brother, or my boyfriend, or _any_ of my friends. But, no, you're right – I'm just _so_ lucky!"

Staring at the mud around her feet, Mai let her words sink in. Zuko – kind-hearted, shy, dorky, compassionate Zuko – was holding Katara captive out of supposed love, isolating her from those she cared about most, and deluding himself into thinking it would make his feelings mutual? It sounded nothing like the boy she had grown up with.

Maybe his three years in exile had changed him for the worst. Maybe Katara wasn't being ungrateful – maybe she really was a victim.

"You know, I originally intended to kill you –" this earned a bewildered, frightened stare "- but I've changed my mind now."

"Um... May I ask _why_ you wanted to kill me?"

"Jealousy," Mai explained simply, shrugging as though it were completely normal. "I'm thinking it's more reasonable to just help you escape."

"Uh, yeah," Katara said with a nervous laugh, remaining tense and posed to run. "I'd prefer that."

* * *

Author's Notes: _This chapter was hard to write, so apologize for any awkward spot. Especially where Mai and Katara's conversation is concerned. . I wanted to have Mai help Katara escape, but needed some sort of transition from, "I hate you gtfo my man" to "I still kinda hate you but Zuzu's a bit of a nut so I'll just get you outta here peacefully". _

_On another note, I think this fic might have the most bedroom scenes that don't involve an ounce of romance. xD  
_

_Uh... So, yeah. Tell me what you think. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. They are the property of Mike, Bryan, and Nickelodean. **


	10. Chapter 10

"Ty Lee?"

Balancing on her hands with both feet bent over her head so they touched the ground in front of her, Ty Lee looked toward the person at the door.

"Zuko!" she squealed, untangled and on her feet in seconds. She bounded toward him with a bright smile. "What brings you here?"

Apparently having no time for greetings, he asked, "Have you seen Katara?"

"Nope. I went to her room half an hour ago, but she wasn't there, so I just assumed she was with you."

Hanging his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth, swearing under his breath.

Tilting her head, she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something's wrong!" he snapped, hand falling to his side as his gaze jerked up to glare at her. "I don't know where Katara is!"

"Oh... So, she's not with you?"

"Do you _see_ her with me?"

Standing on the tips of her toes (the _very_ tips), Ty Lee craned her neck in an effort to see passed Zuko's shoulder into the hall.

"She's not with me!" he shouted impatiently. With one hand on his hip, he ran his fingers through his hair, saying more calmly, "Uncle hasn't seen her, either, and neither has Azula. The guard watching her room said she left with someone we could trust, but the person wished to remain anonymous. . ."

He heard Ty Lee suck in a breath. Eyes darting from his feet to her face, he demanded, "Do you know something?"

"Um. . ." she stammered, playing with her hair. "Mai said something about having a talk with her – but I'm sure there's nothing to worry about!"

However, Zuko's mind was already whirring through all the possible reasons why _Mai_ would want to spend time with _Katara_. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn't stop thinking of how Mai was jealous of Katara (even he wasn't stupid enough not to notice), and probably wished she would just disappear. Something that, with her status and skills, wouldn't be hard to make a reality while Katara's chi was blocked.

"How long until Katara gets her bending back?"

"Well, the length of the block can vary – "

"Just guess!"

"Ten minutes," she squeaked, shrinking back. "But she might already have it back."

That was all he needed to hear before bolting down the corridor toward the palace doors. Ten minutes of being powerless against Mai was far too long, in his mind.

XxXx

"So, you refuse to leave until you find the Avatar?"

Katara nodded, chewing her lip. They were still standing in the pouring rain, no shelter in sight (aside from the palace) as rumbles of distant thunder drew closer, the sky flickering with light. "I'm worried that Zuko might not keep him alive anymore if I'm gone."

With a slight frown, Mai glanced to the massive structure behind them, then down the path toward the gates. ". . . You leave. I'll see what I can do about freeing the Avatar."

"What?" she asked, eyes widening. "But you'll get in huge trouble! It's bad enough you're helping me esc –"

A hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her. "Quiet," Mai hissed, eyes narrowed. "A guard might here you and turn us in.'

She nodded, but the hand remained in place; Mai seemed to have drifted into deep thought, staring back at the palace as though it held some great secret. After a long, silent moment she stepped back. "Can you bend yet?"

"What?" Katara asked, even though she had heard perfectly well. It hadn't occurred to her that her chi flow might have cleared during their argument, but now that she thought about it, quite a bit of time had passed since Ty Lee's last visit. It couldn't hurt to check, right?

Moving into a basic waterbending stance, she spread her fingers in preparation for the familiar motions of one of the first techniques she had learned. In doing so, however, she sent jolts of white-hot pain through her burnt hand (the bandages loose and sopping thanks to the rain) and quickly realized any type of movement of the injury was impossible. Taking a deep breath to steady the trembling limb and fight off the pain, she instead settled on a sloppy swing of her good hand.

A wave of mud jumped up in response.

"Good," Mai said, watching with her usual blank expression despite the scheme that was clearly brewing in her mind. "Now attack me."

"_What?"_

"Attack me," she repeated, not a hint of joking in her tone. "If a guard finds you've run off and I'm lying on the ground covered in mud, he'll assume you attacked me and ran off. Which would be true."

"And then you won't get in trouble," Katara finished, making sense of the plan. Still, as logical and simple as the idea was, it didn't solve the issue of finding Aang, who was hidden Yue-knows where and likely to be killed should she run off without rescuing him.

"How will this help Aang?"

"I have connections; I'll get him out soon enough."

Katara bit her lip, weighing her options. If she left, she had to trust that _Mai_, of all people, would ensure Aang's freedom. While she was certainly being more helpful than anyone else in the palace, it was only because she had a motive for getting rid of Katara – she didn't care one way or another what happened to Aang. However, if Katara _didn't_ leave, no one would be able to warn Sokka, Toph, and Jet that the Fire Nation knew of their invasion plan. That would undoubtedly end in them being slaughtered on the battlefield, meaning there would be no chance of stopping Fire Lord Ozai before the Comet came.

Why did choices have to be so _complicated_?

Apparently sensing her distress, Mai said, "I'll get it done, but only if you leave now and take the suspicion off me." When Katara's hesitation persisted, she added, "Zuko and Azula are probably looking for us already. We don't have much time."

"Alright, alright," Katara said, trying to ignore the nervous, nauseas clenching of her stomach. It would be okay, everything was going to be fine. '_Dear Yue, please let everything work out.'_

Before she had a chance to talk herself out of it (as she knew she eventually would), she swept up a second sloppy wave of mud, hitting Mai square in the chest and knocking her flat on her back. As Mai fell, she shot off three knives, all of which made thin slices in Katara's shirt, one skimming her skin and drawing blood.

The counterattack caught her by surprise, making her tense, locked in a waterbending stance in preparation for a fight. A million thoughts thundered through her mind – it was a trap, Mai had just been waiting for her to let her guard down before killing her; it was all a scheme to get on Zuko's good side.

"Run!" Mai yelled, snapping Katara out of her thoughts. She was still sprawled out in the mud, and it took Katara a moment to connect the dots. The knives hadn't been a real attack, just an effort to make their 'fight' look as convincing as possible.

Needing no further prompting, she ran (mostly slipping and stumbling) down the muddy path. She didn't dare glance back for fear of hesitating or stopping completely.

'_Please, please let Aang be alright._'

XxXx

"What do you mean, 'the Water Tribe peasant escaped'?"Azula demanded, eyes narrowed to deadly slits. She stood in the center of Ty Lee's room barely two minutes after Zuko had left, towering over her cowering friend.

"I guess, somehow, she found a way out," Ty Lee said, fidgeting fearfully. If Zuko had been intimidating, Azula was the embodiment of nightmares at that moment.

"How? You were supposed to be watching her!"

"Well, usually she's with Zuko around this time, so. . ."

Curling her lips, Azula turned away. If the waterbender couldn't be found there was no chance of her plan working, meaning Zuko would remain the throne's rightful heir unless he did something stupid enough to get himself exiled again. That was a risk she didn't want to take – Zuko insisting on his feelings for Katara would guarantee their father's strong disapproval, while his stupidity (while apparent) couldn't ensure his family ties would be severed. Azula wanted things to be calculated, not gambled.

Which was why she knew Katara couldn't have escaped on her own; security had been set up to make that impossible. The only way she could leave her room was if someone took her out and the only people who could do that were Zuko, Iroh, Azula, Ty Lee. . . and Mai. . . .

Rounding on Ty Lee, Azula demanded, "Is this one of your stupid schemes to set up Mai with my brother?"

"Uh, well," she stammered, avoiding eye-contact, "I might've made one or two suggestions that could've given her some ideas. But –" she was quick to add, sensing Azula's growing anger " –I didn't mean for something like this to happen! I told her to talk to Katara and –"

"Enough," Azula snapped, already on her way out the door. "I've heard all I need to know."

XxXx

It wasn't long until Katara was being followed.

She had made it out into the city, where the streets were more stone than mud and everyone had locked themselves inside their houses due to the rain, the lack of crowds allowing for easier movement.

Unfortunately, she didn't know her way around the capital and spent most of her time wandering and backtracking as she searched for an exit in the well fortified area. This gave Zuko ample time to catch up, so that he was right on her heels. She soon took to running blindly, knowing that, with her sloppy one-handed bending, there wasn't a whole lot she could to do to slow him down.

Unless, of course, she healed herself.

Sensing she was lost (_again_), Katara paused long enough to send a wave of rain water crashing into him, causing him to lose his footing. As he stumbled and slowed in an effort to keep his balance, she froze the wide puddle in front of him, creating a slick sheet of ice.

Then she took off, turning random corners in hopes of losing track of him.

Once she felt she had put enough distance between herself and Zuko, Katara stopped, leaning against a building to catch her breath. At the same time, she unwound her soaked bandaging, dropping it to the muddy ground and taking a moment to study the damage. The burn was still red and irritated looking aside from the edges, where new skin was beginning to grow. It stretched across her palm from the base of her middle finger to her thumb, making it painful to move that half of her hand. Still, it wasn't anything her bending couldn't fix.

Gathering the rain to form a glove of water on her right (uninjured) hand, she pressed it to the wound, grimacing as the raw flesh screamed at the pressure. She tried to calm her mind and focus on thoughts of healing, willing her bending to do what she knew it was fully capable of.

Slowly, the pain began to ease.

However, just as she started mending her injury, she heard the tell-tale splash of someone running through puddles nearby and knew Zuko had made it passed her small obstacle. Deciding her healing session would have to be cut short, she Let her water-glove join the mud at her feet and tried flexing her hand. It hurt, but the ache was bearable.

Zuko rounded a corner a few blocks down, spotted her, and picked up speed. With a small grin (surprise was on her side for once), she twisted the water around her to form eight writhing tentacles, swiping at his legs in an attempt to trip him. It almost worked – she caught one foot, causing him to stumble and pitch forward – but he was agile and recovered quickly, catching himself with his hands and rolling forward onto his feet, kicking flames at her as he went and causing one of her liquid 'arms' to evaporated. There was no time to repair it, however, because Zuko was advancing, throwing fireballs in rapid succession. Soon enough, her octopus form had been essentially destroyed (despite her best efforts to maintain it), forcing her to rely on a different technique.

Rising her arms high, she pulled up a massive wall of water, then lunged forward, sending it crashing down like a tidal wave at Zuko. With no way of stopping the immense flood, he was swept off his feet and pushed several yards back, giving Katara time to flee.

As she hurried down the unfamiliar streets, she scanned her surroundings, trying to determine where the exit might be. If only she could get up high enough to see the whole wall around the city; she could find the exit and be gone, rather than wandering in a never-ending circle. But there was nothing to climb _on_ (except the houses, and no _way_ was she trying that), so the only thing she could see was the back of the palace.

Wait. . .

If the capital was built like most of the other Fire Nation cities she had travelled through, then it would be centralized. That meant the palace was likely in the center, and chances were the city's entrance would be at its _front._ It was all Katara could do not to slap herself.

So, with this in mind, she switched directions and dashed back toward the palace.

And almost slammed into Zuko.

She narrowly avoided him with a stumbling side-step, only to have him catch the wrist of her good hand as she darted passed. Trying to tug herself free (with only her injured hand available, bending wasn't a feasible option), she managed to pull hard enough to knock him off balance and escape from his loosened grip.

She barely got five steps away before he tackled her.

"Let me go!" she grunted, struggling underneath him despite knowing she was well out-weighed and over-powered. It was the bathtub all over again, almost as wet and even angrier. The only difference was that they were covered in mud, not soap suds, and they had an audience of curious civilians peeking out their windows, not servants watching fretfully.

"Why do you keep _doing _this?" he shouted in return, his arms (which were holding her hands to her sides) wrapping more tightly around her. Just from his tone, she could picture his scowl. "What am I doing wrong?"

"_You kidnapped me_."

"I'm doing everything I can to give you a perfect life!" he said, seemingly ignoring her answer. "You have your own servants, and custom fit clothing, and your own bedroom – I could even have Water Tribe delicacies shipped in! And, if I could _trust_ you, you'd be allowed to waterbend." His voice, at first loud and frustrated, had grown softer. "Look, if you're mad because I burnt you –"

"_You kidnapped me_," she repeated, careful to stress each syllable this time.

"But. . ." There was a pause as he seemed to search his thoughts; the pounding rain and another distant rumble were the only sounds for a moment. "What about last night. You tried to help me with my nightmares – that means _some_thing, doesn't it?"

Grimacing (she should have left him alone), Katara said, "Just because I comforted you doesn't mean I wanna stay here. I'd rather be sleeping in the dirt and starving with my friends than live in a palace with _you_."

"_Why_?" he demanded, voice rough and confused and frustrated. "Why them? Why not me? What do I have to _do_?"

"You've done enough," she muttered, watching as Azula stepped through the palace gates several yards away, flanked by two guards. Ty Lee followed at a cautious distance. Mai was nowhere to be seen.

Stopping when her mud-caked boots where all Katara could see, Azula said, "I can handle it from here, Zuzu."

The comment stung, if the way his muscles momentarily tensed was anything to go by. Katara wasn't sure who she hated more; Azula, manipulative and selfish, or Zuko, possessive and selfish.

Despite his sister's offer to take care of things, Zuko pulled Katara to her feet, making sure to keep her hands properly restrained. Then guards were closing in on her and Ty Lee was moving nearer, pinching spots on her arms with that mysterious chi-blocking skill.

And Katara's attempt at escape was officially foiled. _Again_.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for taking so long. I had projects to work on last week, and didn't have much time online this Saturday, so... yeah. /excuses_

_I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I'm happy with the overall concept of it, but in certain parts the writing is kinda. . . Blah. :/ _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. They are property of Mike, Bryan, and Nickelodean. **


	11. Chapter 11

Once back in the palace, Zuko was quick to order Katara's guard fired and replaced ("Anyone who won't give me any and all information when requested is not to be trusted!"), have Katara locked in her room, and for everyone to be brought a dry change of clothes. The servants scurried to do as told.

"Mai," Zuko barked, seeing and approaching the girl waiting in the hallway a feet away, "come with me. I need to talk to you."

Before the pair could leave, however, Azula said, "Be sure to send her to my room when you're done. I need to have a word with her." The narrow-eyed stare she sent her suggested it wouldn't be a pleasant conversation.

Katara was soon being lead away by guards, so she didn't see what other exchange might have occurred among the group. Not that she could really bring herself to care – even with inside help and basic use of her waterbending, she hadn't been able to escape. The eclipse was mere days away (two, to be exact), and the Comet was drawing nearer. The world couldn't wait much longer; the Fire Nation had to be stopped, and quickly.

Plus, what if Azula had been right? What if Fire Lord Ozai really was wary of keeping Aang around? How long did she have before. . . ?

And the eclipse. When it came, so would her friends, but chances were the battle would end with their death or imprisonment, not a heroic victory. If it hadn't been for her stupid big-mouth and Iroh's stupid tea and her stupid injury, their plans would still be a secret and the others would still have a chance of _surviving_. The way things were at that moment, she may as well have thrown her friends into Koh's lair.

Once locked in her room, Katara was too exhausted and depressed to even think about what went wrong with her escape or how she could do better next time. She just curled up on her bed – still soaking wet – and drifted to sleep.

XxXx

"Why did you do it?" Zuko demanded. He stood in the center of his room, glaring at where Mai sat on the chair by the door. Her arms were crossed and her face held a rather bored expression, though he had a feeling it was just one of her facades.

"Why do you think?"

Judging by his reaction (clenched teeth, one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair), that wasn't the type of answer he was looking for. "No, but. . . _Why_?"

Letting out a sigh that seemed to indicate this was a very tedious question to answer, she said, "I like you, you like Katara, and Katara hates everyone. I thought getting rid of her would make things easier."

"But I was just starting to make progress!" he said, beginning to pace, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Last night, she came and talked to me and was _nice_. She's never nice! I was finally starting to get through to her, and now I'm back at square one."

"You'll always be at square one."

He tossed a glare at her. "What?"

"I talked to her, too," Mai explained in the usual monotone, following his movement with her pale, golden-brown eyes. "She hates you for bringing her here. And I think she's the type who can hold a grudge."

"I'm telling you, she was starting to soften up –"

"And I'm telling you she wasn't. Being around me didn't suddenly make her hate you again. I don't bring out that kind of emotion in people."

Zuko stopped pacing, turning to give her the full affect of his glare, his jaw set. After a moment of eye-locked silence, he said, "She _was_ warming up. She _will_. I just need time and patience to show her what a great guy I am, and then she'll have no more reason to be angry."

If she was anyone but Mai, she would've rolled her eyes or let out a derisive snort. Or both. Instead, she stared at him in expressionless silence.

"And you," he said, pointing at her as if to scold a disobedient child, "shouldn't mess with my business. I know you're jealous, but that doesn't give you the right to mess around with my life and jeopardize my happiness."

"Hypocrite."

His eyes narrowed, hand dropping to his side. "What?"

"You're doing the exact same thing to Katara. You took her away from everything she likes and expect her to be happy."

"That's different! I'm –"

"Delusional?" she said, finishing the statement for him. Zuko clenched his fists, clearly seething and looking ready to explode. Feeling unusually bold (maybe there was still adrenaline pumping through her system from helping Katara, maybe it was being alone with Zuko for so long), she decided to stoke his temper. "Maybe she did like you last night. In your dreams, at least."

Face contorting with anger, he seemed poised to lunge and, for a moment, Mai feared he was going to attack her. Instead, he closed the short distance between them, leaning so he was inches from her face as he hissed, "I'm _not_ delusional, it _wasn't_ a dream. I'm going to make up for my mistakes, and she's going to forgive me, and she's going to be _happy_. She's going to realize I'm _not_ _a bad guy_."

Struggling to remain stone-faced (he was so close; just one inch forward and. . .), Mai took a barely noticeable breath, exhaled slowly, and said, "You aren't a bad guy. But it's hard to see that when you've been kidnapped."

"She _will_ see!" He was gripping the arms of her chair, shaking slightly as if to emphasize his words. "She'll realize that I only have the best intentions at heart!"

". . . Are you sure you like her? Because that sounds nothing like the girl I talked to."

For a few moments he remained rooted to the spot, staring at her with an expression caught between anger and disbelief and something else (she was never good at identifying emotions), before finally jerking away to pace and grumble and alternate between running his fingers through his hair and simply holding his head in both hands. Mai stayed where she sat, watching him, wondering if this was one of those 'romantic opportunities' Ty Lee was always telling her to seize.

Pausing in his movement, Zuko stood in the middle of the room and stared at his feet, head hanging low and both hands on his hips, seeming to think. Then, pointing to the door with one finger, he commanded, "Out."

Well, that wasn't the outcome she was hoping for.

XxXx

"What seems to be the problem, nephew?" Iroh asked, sitting at Zuko's desk with his hands folded on his lap, facing him with a studious expression.

Sinking onto the end of his bed, the boy in question just stared at the opposite wall, seeming to gather his thoughts. After a while, he asked, "Do you think I'm. . . getting desperate?"

There was no further explanation needed as to what he may be "getting desperate" about.

Iroh hesitated, careful to think his answer through before speaking. It was a touchy subject with a touchy person, and he didn't quite want to deal with Zuko's short and violent temper so early in the day. "I think you're. . . perhaps a bit. . . too optimistic about the situation." At the confused look his nephew threw him, he added, "Miss Katara is a stubborn and passionate young woman. If you do something she views as wrong, it will not be easy to make that wrong a right, especially when her very living conditions are a result of that wrong – which you wrongly assume she'll think is right."

Zuko blinked slowly once, twice, three times. "Um."

Sighing, Iroh said, "She hates that you've taken her here and isolated her from the people she loves, and no amount of wealth or pampering can fix that."

With a groan, he flopped back on his bed, legs still dangling over the end as he covered his face with both hands. "That's what Mai said!"

"Don't you think maybe then it's true?"

"It's just. . . I wanted. . ."

"You'd like to believe that this will be an easy problem to fix. You don't want to think there's a possibility you'll have to let her go."

He laid silently, arms now spread out on either side, staring up at his ceiling. The mattress shifted, tilting to one side when Iroh took a seat beside him.

"I know it's hard, nephew, but it will only get harder if you don't face the truth."

He said nothing, just kept his eyes glued to one spot on the ceiling. Beside him, his uncle sighed, patted him on the head, and stood up (the mattress evened itself out, jostling Zuko, who remained unresponsive). Before leaving the room, Iroh paused to look back at him sympathetically and say, "Just give it some thought. Letting go doesn't have to mean giving up."

Then he left his nephew to the silence of his thoughts.

XxXx

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Azula demanded, eyes narrowed at Mai and Ty Lee. They stood in her bedroom, the thick tension of anger and fear filling the air between them. "Mai? An explanation?"

"You know why I did it," Mai said, flat tone making it difficult to distinguish if she was one of the frightened or one of the angry. "If it's any consolation, I didn't actually plan on freeing the Avatar for her."

"So your feelings for my idiot brother are stronger than your loyalty to me?" she asked, lightning practically crackling around her fingers (or maybe that was just Ty Lee's imagination).

"Come on, guys," Ty Lee said, glancing between her two friends with wide eyes, hands clasped together against her chest. "Let's not fight."

Ignoring her, Mai said, "If by loyalty you mean acting like a well-trained dog-stallion, than yes. I came here to get away from my controlling parents, not be controlled by you."

"Then what kind of friend are you?" Azula said, eyes narrowing and lips twisting into an angry frown. "Choosing to chase after a stupid boy instead of helping me!"

"Only because helping you means forgetting everything _I_ might want."

"_Guys_," Ty Lee squeaked again, inching her way between the pair with her hands held up, as if the simple gesture could separate the quarrelling girls. "Let's just –"

"Stay out of this," Azula snapped, making her jolt back. To Mai, she said, "I'm giving you one more chance, because I know how reliable you can be. But if you do anything like this ever again, consider yourself – and your family – excommunicated from the palace."

Then she turned and flounced out the door, beckoning for Ty Lee to follow. Throwing her friend an apologetic look and shrugging helplessly, Ty Lee did as told, leaving Mai alone in the princess's well-furnished room.

Staring blankly at the now-closed door, she wondered if the threat was something she should actually worry over; being banned from talking to Azula was hardly punishing, even if her parents would undoubtedly be enraged by it. Still, Ty Lee wasn't completely awful, and she wouldn't be able to speak to her if she stayed glued to Azula's side the way she currently was. Could she really handle being stuck with her (_angry_) parents with no connection to her friends?

Not to mention the small matter of _Zuko_ living in the palace. It would be a huge waste of energy to make him fall for her, only to be barred from any association with any member of the palace.

Sensing she was caught, Mai allowed herself a small frown. Once again, Azula's scheme had trapped its victim just the way she wanted it to.

XxXx

"Father, I need to speak with you."

Zuko stood in the center of the throne room, hands fisted and expression determined, ignoring the custom kowtow-before-speaking. He was still dressed in his wet, muddy clothes, hair dripping and drooping over his eyes.

Eyeing him reproachfully from behind his wall of flames, Ozai seemed almost insulted by the intrusion. "What is so urgent that you can't wait a moment to be addressed, or. . ." he looked him up and down, frown deepening, "change into proper clothes."

"I need some advice," he said, ploughing forward before he lost his nerve. "It's about Katara –"

"The peasant you brought here without my permission?"

He hesitated, courage crumbling slightly, but continued nonetheless. "Yeah. . . Well, you know I said I like her and want to show her what a great life we have? Well, it turns out she's too upset about me taking her here to bother giving me a chance, so. . . I was wondering if you might be able to help me decide what to do."

"I told you what I think of that girl already – you should be able to hazard a guess at what I think you should do with her."

Letting his father's words sink in, Zuko avoided the older man's gaze, instead focusing on the red and gold tapestry that hung above the throne, just out of reach of the surrounding fire. Everyone was telling him to give up, give in, get rid of Katara. She didn't want to be around him, and they (well, some of them) didn't want Katara around.

But it had been hard enough letting go of her in Ba Sing Se, when he knew her only as Jet's girlfriend and the Avatar's waterbending teacher, most of his direct contact with her in the form of fights or through the mask of the Blue Spirit. He had thought about her a lot while working in the newly rebuilt tea shop with his uncle, wondering where she was, if she had enough to eat, a place to sleep, if Jet was still treating her well. Worst of all was when his still scrambled-brain would have memory lapses, causing him to not only forget the layout of his room in the palace and what the Avatar's name was (Un? Ran?), but her face would become an uncertain blur and he would spend hours wracking his mind, trying to remember the details.

That, more than anything, was what drove him to leave the comforts of the city in hopes of tracking her down (to do what, he wasn't sure. At least not until he had a run-in with Azula and she miraculously decided to give him advice). It helped that Iroh's plan to be honest with the teashop's manager by telling them they were firebenders had backfired and gotten them removed from Ba Sing Se for "conspiracy to commit treason to the Earth Kingdom and/or bring harm to others".

But what would it be like now that he had _lived_ with Katara? Would the memory lapses persist? How much more would the ache of missing her intensify? Was there anything he could do to ensure her happiness while still allowing him to be with her?

What, more than anything, did Katara want?

'_Her_ _friends_,' a voice that sounded suspiciously like Iroh's answered in his head. '_The Avatar's well being. An end to this war.'_

"Is there anything else you feel the need to discuss?" Ozai asked, pulling Zuko from his thoughts. How long had he been standing there for?

Trying to act casual, he brushed his sopping bangs out of his eyes, asking, "What's the Avatar's condition?"

"He's chained and heavily sedated. I doubt he even knows his name at the moment." He paused, eyed him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh, Katara was wondering. I'll just. . . tell her he's been sleeping a lot."

As he spoke, Zuko noted a strange gnawing in his stomach. It had started while he was reflecting on Ba Sing Se, and he had assumed it was the thought of losing Katara that had caused it. But it persisted, similar to the feeling he got when he realized how miserable Katara was or thought about what he had done to Long Feng.

Guilt. It was guilt – for what, he couldn't pinpoint, but it intensified to the level of nausea when thought about his better moments in Ba Sing Se, of Jin and the teashop's manager and the regular customers who flirted with him or teased Jet for his frilly pink apron –

'_The Comet_,' he realized, gut twisting sickeningly. '_They're going to lose everything when the Comet comes and our armies strike_.'

"Is something wrong, Prince Zuko?" Ozai asked, still eyeing him suspiciously. "You look like you're about to be ill."

"I'm fine –" these people were going to lose their homes "– I just –" their families could die, just like Katara's mother "– need to change into dry clothes."

Head spinning (why did it bother him so much, so suddenly? He had known their fate all his life), Zuko turned on his heel and left without so much as a goodbye.

* * *

Author's Notes:_ So, yeah, talky-talk chapter in which everyone has drama with everyone. I'm kinda happy to be done with this part, since next chapter is the one I've been dying to write since I started this fic. _

_In other news, all the conversations in this were majorly hard to write. xP I did the characters justice and no one is obnoxiously OOC. And that Zuko's sudden guilt-tripping is logical._

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	12. Chapter 12

Rough shaking startled Katara out of an unusually deep sleep.

"Who –?" she murmured, sitting upright. The comfort of pillows and the stale air of the indoors reminded her of exactly where she was, that she hadn't been sleeping on the dirt with her friends as her dream had indicated.

For this reason, it wasn't surprising to hear Zuko's voice whisper, "There's something I need to show you," even if she couldn't see him in pitch darkness of her room.

His hand closed over hers and, with a gentle tug, he pulled her to her feet, away from the warmth of her bed. A small flame jumped to life on his palm, creating a pool of dim light with them at its center, allowing eerie shadows to crawl along the walls and their faces, highlighting the deep grooves of his scarred skin.

As he guided her through the silent, sleeping halls of the palace, Katara was tempted to ask what exactly he wanted to show her and why it couldn't wait until morning. But something about his demeanour told her it wasn't the best time for questions, that she should follow wordlessly and trust him (a task easier said than done).

It wasn't long before she lost track of where they were, though she couldn't be sure if it was because of poor sense of direction or their surroundings actually being unfamiliar. As they made their way down an unusually narrow hallway, Katara noticed for the first time that he was dressed in clothing more typical of a commoner than a prince. His hair was loose, and he was dressed in a simple red and gold outfit, a pair of swords strapped onto his back. She wondered if they were for show or if he actually knew how to wield them and, if he did know, what did he intend to do with them.

Suddenly, it was much harder to just follow along silently.

"So. . . _Where_ exactly are you taking me?" she asked, trying to sound calm and unconcerned. "And why does it have to be at –" she hesitated, wondering briefly how long she had been sleeping "– however late it is now?"

"You'll see," he said. But Katara wasn't willing to play along anymore.

"No, tell me," she demanded, digging her heels in (almost literally – Zuko was pretty strong).

"Katara," he growled in a warning tone.

"If you can't tell me," she said, trying to tug her wrist free and head back to her room, "than it's probably not something I want to see."

He scowled at her for a moment, mouth pulled down in an angry line. Then his face was gone from view; the flame he carried had vanished, and suddenly Katara felt him holding both her wrists together from behind, something leathery (his belt?) being used to bind them together.

"Hey – what are you –"

"Just co-operate for once, alright?"

Then he was leading her forward with one hand gripping her arm, the other once again supporting a flame. Soon, they reached the end of the hall, where there was a door with a rather important looking sign on it. Before Katara had a chance to read it, however, he had swung it open and begun making his way down the long, curving staircase on the other side. Forced to follow him, Katara was cautious not only of the boy in front of her, but the hard-to-see steps they were hurrying down, wary of the possibility of tripping and falling head-first the rest of the way. The increasingly damp, musty smell in the air didn't act as much of a comfort.

However, after a long descent, smell wasn't the only thing growing stronger. A flickering light that didn't sit on the palm of Zuko's hand eventually greeted them, brightening with each step until Katara could see clearly near the bottom of the stairwell, which ended in a small strip of flat ground and a heavy looking metal door.

"Wait here," Zuko said, hurrying down the rest of the steps on his own. Then he knocked loudly on the door with three reverberating '_thuds'_. There were clomping footsteps and the jingle of keys as someone approached, but, rather than waiting for him at the door, Zuko moved into the corner behind it.

Moments later, the door swung open and a man with every appearance of a prison warden stepped through, glancing around with a furrowed brow. Spotting Katara, his eyes narrowed and he took a menacing step forward, hands poised to attack (with fire, most likely). "Hey, what are you –"

But he only got that far before Zuko moved out of hiding and hit him on the head with the hilt of his sword.

The guard hit the floor with a painful, echoing '_thump_', and Zuko didn't hesitate before rushing into what, from where Katara stood, appeared to be a small dungeon. Lights flashed in the time with the familiar roar of fire, followed closely by grunts and the sound of more bodies collapsing. There was a tense moment of silence, and she couldn't help wondering who the last to fall was.

Then Zuko was poking his head through the door, breathless and beckoning her to come with him.

The dungeon was relatively small, basically just a narrow corridor with ten cells – five on each side – and just as many guards on the ground, lit by flickering torches mounted on the stone walls between each cell. The bars holding the prisoners in were the same metal as the door and the chains on their wrists.

Well, actually, there was only _one_ prisoner. One very familiar prisoner, his normally bald head covered in prickly brown stubble.

Before Katara could say a single word, Zuko was testing the ring of keys he had apparently grabbed from one of the guards on the cell's lock, muttering in frustration every time one refused to fit. Finally, he found the right key, allowing him to unlock the door and enter. His swords appeared from their sheath, and in seconds the chains on Aang's wrists and feet had been cut clean through.

All the while, Katara was struggling to comprehend _why_. _Why_ was Zuko freeing Aang, when just minutes ago he had tied _her_ up like some sort of rebellious prisoner? _Why_ would he have any motivation to do something that could benefit anyone outside his cosy little palace? Didn't freeing Aang completely contradict everything she knew about Zuko, selfish and patriotic and making it his life's mission to _capture_ the Avatar? What did he serve to gain from it?

Then a small, obvious fact clicked in her mind – he had brought her along to watch. He wasn't doing it out of the goodness of his heart, he was hoping doing something so "heroic" and "selfless" would win her over!

However, her outrage quickly vanished in favour of horror when she noticed how limp Aang was as he fell from his shackles onto Zuko's shoulder. His head lolled around, limbs swinging like a ragdoll's, unusually pale.

Was he. . . ?

"Drugged," Zuko explained when he saw her expression, carrying the seemingly lifeless boy out of the cell. "He had to be put to sleep to make sure he wouldn't escape."

"Right," she nodding, trying to swallow passed the painful lump that had formed in her throat, unable to tear her eyes away from sallow face. "That makes sense."

One of the guards at their feet groaned, seeming to rouse. A sharp kick in the head from Zuko's boot made him slip back to unconsciousness.

"We better get out of here before more wake up," he said.

However, instead of turning to the door through which they had entered, he headed toward a long metal ladder on the opposite side of the dungeon, which stretched up through a hole in the low, stone ceiling.

"You go first," he instructed, adjusting Aang's position on his shoulder.

Katara peered anxiously up into darkness she would disappear into, then looked back at him. "I can't."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you've battled squads of trained soldiers and your scared of –"

"My hands are still tied."

"Oh. Right," he muttered, somehow managing to balance Aang on his shoulder while simultaneously untying the belt he'd bound her wrists with. Wrapping it around his waist – where it belonged – he said, "Alright, go, before we get caught."

Deciding arguing with him further wasn't worth the risk (even if she _wasn't_ too keen on letting him lead her into Yue-knows-what), she gripped the cold metal rungs mounted on the stone wall and began her ascent. The sound of breathing and occasional feel of his hand brushing against her foot as he reached for the next step on the ladder told her Zuko was very close behind.

Climbing with the comfort of firelight was out of the question, on account of Zuko having to carry Aang and climb at the same time, but knowing this didn't mean Katara could control the goose-lion bumps that spread across her arms, or the feeling that the walls – wherever they were – were about to close in on them.

And that noise. There was a rushing, roaring sound coming from above, growing louder the higher they climbed. It was like a raging fire, or violent windstorm, or. . .

_The ocean_. Recognition dawned when the smell of sea salt tickled her nose.

But why would Zuko be taking her to the ocean? Was a quick swim coupled with Aang's freedom supposed to make her forgive everything and fall madly in love with him?

Unfortunately, it wasn't that far-fetched of a concept.

Pulling herself out of the dark hole and into the moonlight, Katara took a moment to study her surroundings. It was a rough alcove chiselled out of a large cliff face, more than likely through the use of manpower and explosives, since it was out of reach of the tumultuous waves (though definitely not the spray). A few small boats sat close to the edge, connected to a system of ropes and pulleys that seemed designed to lower them into the water. Both the boats and the lowering system were worn and weathered with age.

"Rebel groups used to attack the palace from sea sometimes," Zuko explained as he carefully laid Aang's body on the ground. "This was set up so it would be easier to capture their leaders and take them straight to prison. It hasn't been used in years, but I figure it works well enough to be an effective escape route."

She whirled around to face him, eyes wide, almost choking on her breath in shock. There was no way she could have heard him correctly. "You-you're. . ."

Nodding, he stared at a crack in the rock by her feet, shifted his weight, rubbed the back of his neck, apparently determined to stall explaining as long as possible (or maybe he just didn't know how to).

Which, for the moment, was fine with Katara. Because her mind was far too busy – wondering (_why was he doing this?_), worrying (_it's a trap, isn't it?_), searching for reasons (_my attitude finally made him fall out of love with me!)_, and trying to grasp the fact that _he might be letting her go_ – to really handle the actual explanation.

So they stood in silence, her staring at him, him staring at Aang, Aang dead asleep, the roar of the ocean seeming mute in the face of such shock.

"You. . . You're letting me go?" she asked, hoping that voicing the fact would make it easier to believe. Instead, it just reminded her how absurd it was. "_Why_? I mean, you were so. . . . And now you're. . . . _Why_?"

He only shrugged, continuing to fidget and avoid her gaze; making her wonder if he even knew the reason himself.

"I've been thinking since, you know, what happened today. . ." he started, made tentative eye-contact, then ploughed onward, "I realize it's not right to keep you here against you will, and that I should. . . let you be where you're happy. Even if it means _I'm_ not happy." Gesturing to where Aang was sleeping, he added, "And, well, it doesn't seem right to keep the Avatar locked up knowing what it will lead to. After living so close with the people of Ba Sing Se, I just. . . can't ignore it anymore."

Katara could only stare, wide-eyed, her mouth hanging slightly open. He was letting her go? He was _letting her go_. It wasn't a trick or a dream or anything of that sort. _He was letting her go!_ He was _protecting Ba Sing Se!_

It was almost enough to make her want to cry.

Sensing her disbelief, Zuko quickly added, "But only if you want to! I mean, if you've decided you wanna stay, that's fine. There might be some issue with knocking out the guards and freeing the Avatar, but –"

"No," she interrupted, feeling the slightest nibble of guilt when his face fell, "I want to leave. I want to be with my friends."

With a nod, he resumed staring at his feet. "Alright."

They fell into silence again. Katara glanced at the boats, which appeared to be devoid of any oars or sails, then at the rough waters below, and decided there was something very important missing from this plan.

"How exactly am I supposed to get to wherever the others are?"

Smiling nervously, he scratched the back of his neck again. "See, I snuck some sleep-inducing herbs into your lunch –"

"_What?_"

"- so you would sleep all day and Ty Lee would have no reason to bother you."

It took a second for her brain to make the connection. "_Oh._"

Stepping closer to the edge, the wind tugging at his hair and his clothes, he gestured to their left and said, "Just follow the cliffs until you reach the docks in front of the capital, then sail straight ahead from there. That should bring you to the mainland. I haven't figured out how you could signal or track them down yet, though, so you'll have to figure that out yourself."

"That's okay," she murmured, staring in the direction he had indicated with persistent disbelief.

Without another word, they set up one of the boats, balancing it on a pedestal of ice (Katara didn't trust the old rope to support it) and positioning Aang's limp body in it in a manner that seemed least like the get him tossed out by the rough waves. Katara quickly clambered in beside him.

Before she could begin to lower them into the water, however, Zuko – still kneeling at the edge – was cupping her cheeks with both hands. He stared at her, seeming to debate with himself for a moment, then leaned forward to kiss her gently.

Before she could even think about shoving him away, he was rising to his feet and stepping back from the edge, disappearing back down the hole they had climbed out from.

And then she was free to leave.

XxXx

In the dank, musty dungeon beneath the Fire Lord's palace, a guard awoke to find himself face-down on the floor with a massive headache. He groaned, pushing himself to his feet and letting his gaze sweep over his surroundings, training telling him to be alert of a threat despite the pain.

Then his gaze caught something completely unexpected.

Prince Zuko, sitting cross-legged in one of the cells, a broken pair of shackles on his lap, his hands held up as if in surrender.

* * *

Author's Notes: _I'm not completely satisfied with this, but I suppose it's all right. It's the scene I've been waiting to write since the very beginning, so maybe I just gave myself high expectations. xP _

_Hope you guys enjoy it! Comments and criticism are welcome and appreciated. :3_

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. It is property of Nickelodean. **


	13. Chapter 13

The sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon, painting the bottom of the sky with soft pinks and reds when Katara reached the mainland. As much as she had missed waterbending, it was hard to enjoy the act while battling the rough sea and left her tired and wet and more than a little confused.

Zuko's words and actions were still replaying in her mind as she dragged the boat across the sandy shore, hardly making any sense. Because he was _Zuko;_ he didn't just let things go, especially not two things he had been freakishly obsessed with. Not without an ulterior motive, at least.

And yet, there was no denying her freedom, Aang's safety, and Zuko setting a flawless escape plan that excluded only finding her friends.

So what hidden agenda could he possibly have?

Shaking her head ('_That isn't what I need to worry about right now'_), she carefully lifted Aang out of the boat, his limp and waterlogged body heavier than before. With effort, she carried him from the shore and danger of a rising tide, stopping to rest – and more importantly, _think_ – on drier, higher ground.

Bending the water out of their clothes, she contemplated the issue of contacting Sokka, Jet, and Toph. Somehow, she needed to create a signal that wouldn't catch the attention of the palace, but _would_ alert her friends to where she was.

Smoke would never work – it was the Fire Nation, after all. She didn't have any kind of flare or explosive to set off, and if she did it still ran the risk of unwanted interest. And anything involving waterbending would be far too obvious.

Plus, who knew where the others were? The Fire Nation was small compared to the other nations, but still big enough that there was the chance of her friends being too far away to see – let alone understand – any signals she might set off.

"Great," she muttered, flopping back on the dirt and staring up at the almost-full moon that still hung in the slowly brightening sky. Her mind had otherwise drawn a blank, and she was beginning to wonder if maybe this was all part of Zuko's plan. Leave her stranded on the shore with no way of contacting her friends and an unconscious Avatar at her side, so there would be no hope of getting away in time to avoid the palace's search team. . .

"Katara?"

Sitting up, she twisted around to see the person addressing her, a wide grin splitting across her face. "Jet! What are you doing here?"

He was already sliding down the steep hill behind her, obviously not concerned by grass and mud stains, stumbling in his rush to close the distance between them when he reached the bottom. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to her feet and into a crushing, relieved hug.

"We're camping out on the hill," he explained, still not relinquishing his grip on her. "I'm on lookout tonight, so I saw you coming into shore. I wasn't sure if it was you, but then I noticed Aang's arrow. . ." he trailed off, finally stepping back to hold her at arm's length, looking her up and down. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

There was no need to specify who "he" was.

However, before she had a chance to respond, Jet was grabbing her left wrist, staring the partially healed flesh on her palm with a smouldering gaze. "He burned you? He _burned_ you?"

"It wasn't intentional," Katara quickly said, tugging her hand free and not quite sure why she was defending _Zuko_, the third-most evil human on the planet (first was his father, then Azula).

Either Jet didn't hear or he chose to ignore her, moving toward the shore as he released a string of expletives that seemed to involve killing a "dirty, kidnapping, Fire Nation son of a bitch".

"Jet, don't be an idiot," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back toward her. "The palace is crawling with guards."

"Well, I'll get him tomorrow, during the invasion. Where's his room? Wait, how would you know – did he ever drag you there against your will? Is burning some kind of Fire Nation kink? I swear, if he laid one finger –"

"We can't go through with the invasion!" she blurted, the mention of their plan reminding her why finding him and the others had been so urgent. "They know all about it."

He stared at her, silent, the rest of his rant seeming to have died in his throat. "What? How?"

"I –" she hesitated, contemplated telling him about the tea and Azula and the whole catastrophe, decided that would only fuel his rage at Zuko more, and settled for saying, "I messed up big time and let it slip that we were planning to attack during the eclipse tomorrow. But, well, even if they didn't know. . ." She gestured to where Aang lay behind them, the sight still causing her heart to lurch.

Looking closely at him for the first time, Jet paled, eyes widening. "Is he –?"

"Just sleeping," Katara quickly explained. "I don't know how long it'll take for whatever drugs they gave him to get out of his system. I doubt it'll be in time for tomorrow."

He sighed, continuing to stare out across the water, where the capital was a small spec on the horizon. "So. . . what are we supposed to do?"

"Right now? Find somewhere safe to let Aang recover. We can't do anything about stopping the Fire Lord if he's not back to his old self in time." As she spoke, she knelt beside Aang, slinging one of his arms over her shoulder. "Come on. Let's get him to camp."

Jet seemed reluctant to accept defeat so easily, but helped her carry Aang up the hill nonetheless.

XxXx

"Prison? Are you sure?"

Ty Lee nodded.

"Well," Azula said, lips lifting in a smirk, "this worked out better than I could've planned."

"Even with the Avatar gone?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Honestly, Ty Lee, I thought you'd know better. The Avatar planned on attacking during and eclipse – today. But, seeing as he hasn't eaten in a week and has been drugged for just as long, it's safe to say that's not likely. And I somehow doubt he and his little friends thought o prepare a Plan B."

"But. . ." Ty Lee trailed off, sensing there was something wrong with this supposedly-perfect situation but unable to pinpoint what. According to Azula, this was exactly what they wanted and needed – Zuko was out of the way of the throne, the Avatar was no longer a threat, and Azula remained the favoured child. Everything would run smoothly from then on.

So, why didn't she feel happy about it?

'_It's Mai,_' she decided, glancing over at her friend, who had been unusually silent since the news was announced. Unusual because of the way the silence felt – it wasn't the same bored or uninterested or not-allowed-to-speak silence typical of Mai. It was _sad_.

And why shouldn't she be upset? The boy of her dreams – her _soul mate_, maybe – had just been shipped off to the Boiling Rock, the worst (or best, depending on your perspective)prison in the entire Fire Nation for the worst betrayal imaginable. It didn't help that Katara was obviously involved somehow, having disappeared from the palace that same night. Plus, she couldn't easily vent her feelings, on account of Azula keeping an extra-close eye on them and making them shut up if they said anything about Zuko (unless it was "good" news, of course) to ensure the previous day's disloyalty never reoccurred.

Azula must have noticed Mai's odd silence, too, snapping Ty Lee out of her thoughts by saying, "Oh, try not to look so glum. He was a waste of your time, anyway."

It may have been Ty Lee's imagination, but Mai appeared to prickle at her words.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Azula said, turning on her heel, "I must go console father and earn my place on the throne."

Then she strutted away, leaving Mai and Ty Lee alone in the corridor, where the latter of the pair had run up to her friends shouting about Zuko's imprisonment just moments ago.

"How are you holding up?" she asked as soon as Azula was out of earshot.

"Fine." A lie – they had been friends long enough for Ty Lee to notice.

She thought to embrace her, but drew back before the action could be carried through, remembering Mai's aversion to hugs (or any physical contact). "Oh, I. . . I'm sure you'll –"

"What? Get over him?" she practically snorted, voice sharp and hinting at anger. "I've liked him since I was six."

"Well, there has to be _something_ we can do. Maybe there's some way you can still be with him."

"In prison?"

"What are the chances of him being left in there to rot?"

Mai stared at her, the silent response seeming to indicate that there was a _very_ high chance of that happening.

"But his uncle," Ty Lee continued, determined to make her see the bright side. "General Iroh wouldn't just leave him, would he? And I'm sure he'd let us help him."

"Why? We've been on Azula's side since this whole thing started. He has no reason to trust us."

Frowning (why did Mai have to be so _negative_?), Ty Lee stared down at her shoes and wracked her brain for some way around their history with Azula, Zuko's imprisonment and probable suspicion, and Iroh's distrust. It hardly seemed fair that everyone was so reluctant to trust them – they had only been following Azula's orders. Didn't they know how _scary_ she could be?

Well, if they wouldn't willingly let Mai be with Zuko, then maybe the two of them would just have to _force_ their way into his company.

Anything to cheer up a friend.

XxXx

"So, what you're saying is: Sparky came to his senses just in time for the invasion, but there _is_ no invasion because the Fire Lord knows about it?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"That _blows_," Toph grumbled, leaning back in her rock-chair and crossing her arms.

The reunited group was gathered in a circle in the small campsite at early morning, Katara having just relayed the bad news to them. Aang was laid out under a shady out-cropping of rock a few feet away, still unconscious.

"So, the new plan has to be the old plan?' Sokka asked, brow furrowed as he stared at their barely-visible target in the distance. "I don't know if. . . . We'll have to work Aang extra hard to have him anywhere near ready in time."

"Don't forget that we still have to actually _find_ a firebender willing to teach him," Katara added. Beside her, she could feel Jet tensing.

"Who says he has to learn firebending?"

"Jet, come on, he's the Avatar," Sokka tried to reason. "Master of all _four_ elements?"

"Yeah, but does he really _need_ it?" Jet asked, letting his dark-brown gaze sweep across the group, his tone taking on the familiar authority of his leader self. "Why make him learn another element when he can use that time to perfect the ones he's already been taught? It seems better to send him into battle with three _mastered_ elements instead of four _almost_-mastered elements."

"But how do we know what environment he'll be fighting in?" Sokka asked after taking a moment to consider the suggestion. "If there's no water or earth nearby, then he'll be stuck with airbending, and there's _no_ way he can kill someone with that. It's completely defensive."

"Well, I could teach Twinkle Toes metalbending, but I'm not sure how much good it'll do against Lord Hot-Pants and his army," Toph said with a shrug, referring to the rather unique ability she had discovered just after they left Ba Sing Se, when Xin Fu and Master Yu had attempted to capture her. "I haven't tested it in a real fight yet."

Scowling in apparent dislike at having his plan challenged, Jet said, "Well, just don't make it our immediate priority. I'm sure there's other ways Aang can defeat the Fire Lord."

"And if we can't find any?" Katara asked, leaning forward so she could catch his gaze with her own serious expression. "You have to be willing to accept the possibility of travelling with a firebender."

Frown deepening, he broke eye-contact and grumbled, "Fine."

Behind them, Aang stirred, still asleep and oblivious to his increasingly-dire situation.

* * *

Author's Notes: _So, basically, this si just a breather, "What-do-we-do-now?" chapter more than anything. Which is why it's kinda short and uneventful. Still, I hope you guys enjoyed it. =D_

_Comments and crisitism are welcome and loved! _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	14. Chapter 14

General Iroh was a hard person to stalk.

Or, at least, he was hard to stalk when he himself was trying to be stealthy.

Which was why, nearly twenty-four hours after news of Zuko's treachery and imprisonment had spread through the palace like wildfire, Mai and Ty Lee were cautiously following Iroh, knowing he was likely on his way to spring his nephew out of the Boiling Rock. What other reason did he have for slinking through the palace an hour before sunrise?

The Dragon of the West was clearly on a mission, and he was going to have some company, whether he liked (or knew) it or not.

"What's he doing now?" Ty Lee whispered, trying to peek over Mai's shoulder. She was elbowed back and shushed, her question otherwise left unanswered.

Then Mai made a gesture that indicated it was time to move forward, and they dashed down the hall after Iroh's retreating figure.

Not that they actually knew where he was leading them. He had taken them in a maze of turns, entering rooms for long periods of time and leaving them alone, empty-handed; constantly backtracking in a manner that almost seemed like he was _avoiding_ the palace's exit. It didn't make sense, it had been going on for far too long, and both girls were growing impatient.

Not to mention the obvious risks such behaviour carried – what if someone noticed? How did they explain wandering around the palace at night? How did they explain being armed and dressed in clothing from their days of travelling with Azula instead of the more formal outfits they had worn during their stay in the royal family's home?

Everything about their current situation was suspicious. Caution was absolutely necessary.

Though, no amount of caution could prepare them for what happened when the rounded the corner.

"You two have been following me for half an hour," Iroh stated as the pair came to an abrupt halt, meeting their wide-eyed gazes (well, Ty Lee's – Mai managed to look typically blank) with his own narrowed stare, his mouth a thin line. "Why?"

"Well, see, we couldn't sleep so we went for a walk but then we saw you wandering around and got curious and –"

"I want to help you free Zuko," Mai cut in, earning a squeak of dismay from Ty Lee. "I'm tired of following Azula's orders."

For a wordless moment, Iroh just stared at them, his expression unchanging and posture bordering on defensive. With a slight tilt of his chin, he asked, "Why should I believe you?"

"Because you know Azula's crazy and I like Zuko."

"And if we didn't want to help you, I totally would've chi-blocked you by now," Ty Lee added.

Letting his gaze shift between them, his frown deepened. On the one hand, Mai wouldn't do anything unless it held some sort of benefit, and Ty Lee wasn't a very convincing liar, so it was possible that they were telling the truth.

But what did Mai value more? Keeping herself entertained by doing Azula's bidding while reaping the benefits of being friends with royalty, or freeing the boy she loved from prison? And how could he be sure Ty Lee hadn't been tricked into following one plan when the intents were actually completely different?

The risk of trusting them was very real and very large, and the motive for doing so was mostly nonexistent.

"Go back to bed," he said, turning away. It wouldn't matter if they reported him – his absence would be discovered soon enough regardless, and trying to subdue them would waste time and alert the guards.

However, before he could take one step away, he heard a voice that could stop anyone in their tracks.

"What are you doing wandering around the palace so late?"

"A-Azula!" Ty Lee squeaked, offering a stiff, unconvincing smile as she whipped around to face her friend, who stood near the wall at the entrance to the corridor. "Wh-what are you doing out of bed?"

"You first," she said, one hand on her hip as her eyes narrowed. Then, without actually giving them a chance to answer, she explained, "My bedroom is down the hall. I could hear you idiots arguing."

All three stiffened, some more obviously than others.

"What were you talking about, anyhow?" she demanded, only to have realization (sort of) dawn when her gaze landed on Iroh. "Oh, let me guess. My dear uncle –" she pointed at him casually, the silky red sleeve of her robe slipping down to her elbow " – is hoping to save dear Zuzu from life in prison, and you two –" the finger shifted to where Mai and Ty Lee stood beside each other "– were hoping to stop him."

They held their breath, silent, weighing their options. Iroh considered the chances of being able to take out all three girls quickly and mess-free (slim) and slipping out of the palace undetected (slimmer). Ty Lee wondered if she should tell the truth, lie and use Azula's obliviousness to their advantage, or try to convert her to their cause. Mai was caught between both dilemmas (though, the attacking part was directed mainly at Azula).

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Azula demanded, her pleased grin dissolving into a scowl. "Get rid of him! We don't need another traitor on our hands."

Which answered all their questions quite clearly.

As Iroh moved to strike Ty Lee, she darted toward Azula with fingers poised and pressure points pinpointed. At the same time, Mai shot off a set of knives, pinning the loose sleeve of the princess's robe to the wall behind her. The chi-block came moments later, rendering her completely defenceless.

"You-you . . ." she sputtered, eyes wide and lips pulled back in an enraged snarl as she tore her arm free. A useless gesture, considering the fact that she was out-numbered and had no way of fighting back. "You fools! You won't make it ten steps! You'll be thrown in the Boiling Rock with the rest of the filth!"

But they weren't listening. Instead, the trio was barrelling down the hall in an effort to reach the nearest exit before the guards swarmed and Azula's threats were made a reality, seeming to have formed an unspoken agreement that an act of such magnitude on Mai and Ty Lee's part warranted a little trust.

XxXx

"So, what's the plan?" Ty Lee asked once she, Mai, and Iroh were out of the palace and sneaking across the grounds, having successfully eluded (well, _incapacitated_) the guards. "Are we stealing one of the airships?"

"No."

"But. . . How are we going to get to the prison?"

"We're not. Yet."

"Oh," she said, nodding. A pause. "Where _are_ we going?"

"To gather some allies," he said, tone implying that was the most explanation he was going to offer. At the same time, his expression shifted to one of uncertainty and he slowed his pace until he reached a complete stand-still.

Standing behind Iroh and beside Ty Lee, Mai's eyebrow twitched upward curiously. "Why are we stopping? It's almost daylight and the guards are still looking for us."

Turning so he half-faced them, Iroh hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "What are your opinions on Ozai?"

"He's taking over the other nations to spread our wealth and prosperity, like the Fire Lords before him," Mai said blankly, paraphrasing what every piece of propaganda had told her all her life. It was hard to gauge how serious she was.

"But, well, I guess we're _kinda_ going against him by attacking Azula and running away so Mai can be with Zuko . . ." Ty Lee added, index finger pressed to her chin while her other hand rested on her hip, her eyes titled skyward. "But it's for love, so it's okay, right?"

Frown deepening, Iroh studied the pair for a moment, wondering just how much faith he should put in them. Were they neutral enough not to pose a threat, or was the propaganda and their upbringing enough to keep them mostly loyal to Ozai's vision?

Deciding it was best to play it safe, he spoke with careful words and thoughtful pauses. "You see, there's a certain . . . rebel group my nephew and I have been meaning to join. Now seems like an appropriate time to do so, but I need to be careful. They . . . aren't quick to trust, and I believe this will be especially true in Prince Zuko's case. So it's best if they . . . warm up to _me_ before he comes into the picture."

"Rebels?" Ty Lee asked, eyes bright. "Who? Where?"

"I can't tell you. Not until I'm sure I can trust you."

"We just took down Azula," Mai pointed out. "I think that's reason enough."

"Turning against Azula does not mean you have turned against the Fire Lord. I need to be certain you won't endanger these people before you can know who they are."

"But Mai wants to be with Zuko! How can you put war before love?"

"It's not like we have anything to gain by siding with the Fire Lord," she added, ignoring Ty Lee, who stared dreamily at the fading stars, hands clasped to her chest. "And I somehow doubt whatever you have in mind will be boring."

Glancing between the two, Iroh contemplated, weighing his chances. The motives they offered made sense with who they were, but they were still pretty weak reasons to believe they would do no harm – words were cheap unless backed with substantial information.

But who better to offer such a thing than a governor's daughter?

"Mai, what can you tell me about Omashu's value in the war?"

"That's –" she started, no doubt intending to say "classified" like she was trained to, but stopped short, realizing the purpose of the question. Without further hesitation, she rhymed off the city's assets – coal mines, shipping routes, and the small possibility of cutting a path (over or under) straight through the mountains to Ba Sing Se. Simple facts, but ones that revealed things important enough for an enemy to target and exploit.

With a nod and a hint of a smile, Iroh turned, resuming his stroll toward the palace grounds' exit.

"Good," he said, not pausing to make sure they were following. "Now, I don't suppose either of you have experience sailing to the mainland?"

XxXx

The sun hung high in the clear, deep blue sky early that afternoon. Gentle ocean breezes made the grass sway, cooling the sweat that accumulated on a person's skin. Regular tremors and explosions of earth kept things from becoming too peaceful.

"Twinkle Toes, quit pussyfooting around! This technique is _easy_," Toph snapped, arms crossed and a scowl on her face as she watched him twist the ground.

"I'm sorry," he panted, wiping at his moist forehead. "It's been a while since I practiced earthbending."

"Well, you better get yourself back in shape! Lord Hot-Pants won't hold back on amateurs!"

Wincing at the stinging comment, he was reminded once again of what lay ahead of him. He had awakened late the previous day, finally coherent enough to understand the bad news his friends had to deliver – they had missed the eclipse, so he would have to face Ozai at his full strength. He would have to master all the elements.

Despite everyone's assurance that it wasn't his fault (and it wasn't – the kidnapping and consequent week-long bout of unconsciousness had been completely out of his control), he couldn't help the guilt and anxiety that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Already his friends were trying to cram as much training into his day as possible, despite the fact that he had just recovered hours earlier. And it wasn't just bending they were trying to teach him, either – Jet was determined to teach him how to handle a sword in place of firebending, a fact Aang was far from comfortable with. Swords were sharp and deadly; it was hard to fight with one without actually doing serious harm to someone.

Though, maybe that was the point.

"Uh, guys?" Sokka called from where he sat on the hill's edge at the opposite side of camp, squinting down at the shore. "I think we've got company."

Exchanging glances, everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed to his side. Sure enough, a small boat lay abandoned in the sand while three figures – two in red, one in pink, all drenched by the rough waves – approached the hill.

"Toph?" Sokka asked, throwing his blind friend an anxious look. "Are they close enough to see?"

""Yeah, one of them's Iroh," she said, though didn't sound comforted by the presence of the old friend.

"Who else?"

"Sighs-a-Lot and Circus Freak, Azula's crazy friends."

"But that doesn't make sense," Katara immediately protested, leaning forward and squinting down at the group, who had reached the bottom of the hill. "Iroh was always against what Zuko and Azula did, and Mai and Ty Lee are . . . well, Azula's crazy friends."

"Ooh, maybe Iroh got brainwashed!" Sokka said. At the look his friends threw him, he shrugged and added defensively, "What? It's happened."

"Forget why they're together!" Jet snapped, starting to make his way down the slope. "We gotta make sure they don't get to Aang."

Then, before anyone could agree or protest, he was sliding down the hill toward the trio, swords drawn and ready to strike.

* * *

Author's Notes: _I'm surprised this is on time, since I ran into a block that lasted, like, three days. xD I needed help from a friend on LJ to figure out what motive Iroh would have for trusting Mai and Ty Lee with the location of the Avatar ('cause I don't know anything about war so I don't think of these things)._

_Also, I apologize if the timeline has gotten at all confusing. I had to cut a scene out of this chapter because it was just taking up space, so it's a bit wierd. Also, whoa, Mai-Lee-Roh got a lotta focus in this chapter. _

**Disclaimer:I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	15. Chapter 15

There was one very major flaw with charging headfirst into battle against enemies you had never faced before – they had the element of surprise, and you didn't.

Mai was quick to retaliate against Jet as he barrelled down the hill toward them, shooting off half a dozen concealed daggers. Jet was able to skilfully deflect each projectile with his swords, too focused on the defending himself to notice Ty Lee dart toward him. When he did see her, she was right beside him, striking with rapid-fire pinches that rendered the left side of his body limp and useless.

Then she cart-wheeled the rest of the way up the hill, leaving him to fumble helplessly, unable to balance on the steep incline with only the use of one leg. One gentle push from Iroh sent him tumbling.

"Hi!" Ty Lee greeted when she reached the top, beaming at the immediately hostile group.

Her friends weren't far behind, the older of the pair offering a small smile and a chuckle as he said, "Sorry about your friend. We had hoped our arrival would be a bit more peaceful."

"Truth," Toph said automatically.

"Why are you here?" Aang demanded, stepping out to the front of the group (despite protests from Katara and Sokka). "Why are you together?"

"I had hoped I could teach you firebending."

"Truth."

Aang looked between Mai and Ty Lee, the more shocking members of the trio. "And you?"

"We wanna find –" Ty Lee started, but abruptly cut off upon meeting Iroh's gaze. The eye-contact lasted barely a second, but they seemed to share a wordless conversation in the short time. "Er, we had a change of heart and got tired of Azula bossing us around."

"Truth," Toph said again. "What _I'd_ like to know is how you found us. Sugar Queen had no clue where we were until Queen Bee showed her."

"Sugar Queen?" Mai said, raising an eyebrow. "Queen Bee?"

But Iroh only smiled and said, "Not many people camp so close to the capital, or create small earthquakes."

Somewhere near the bottom of the hill, Jet's voice drifted up: "I told you earthbending was a bad idea!"

"Shut up!" Sokka shouted, cheeks reddening. To the others, he said, "I should make sure he's alright, shouldn't I?"

"Probably."

Once they had dragged Jet back up the hill and assessed his injuries (all minor and easily healed by Katara), they requested a private moment to discuss letting Iroh, Mai, and Ty Lee join them. Huddled in a circle while the subjects of their discussions sat off to the side, they argued in hushed voices.

"We can't trust them," Jet insisted, standing between Sokka and Katara. "Did you see what they did to me?"

"You _attacked_ them," Toph said, positioned to Katara's right and Aang's left. "If it were me you were going after, Sugar Queen would've had to scrape your remains of the hillside!"

Shrugging, Aang said, "She has a point – they were acting out of self-defence."

"You're siding with _them_? Come on, _some_one has to agree with me!"

"Iroh's a good guy. He wouldn't have any reason to go after Aang," Katara said, resting a hand on his shoulder in an effort to console him.

"How do you know?"

"Because I lived with him! He's a nice guy."

"He's also related to the Fire Lord and known as the Dragon of the West, the man who almost captured Ba Sing Se! How can you be sure this isn't part of some elaborate scheme?"

Opening her mouth to protest, she hesitated, realizing she _didn't_ know. After all, Iroh had never really done anything to _help_ her – not when Zuko was chasing them, not while she was being held in the palace against her will, and not when she finally escaped. Plus, there was the incident with the tea and spilling the invasion plan to Azula . . .

"It's not Iroh I'm worried about," Sokka said, interrupting her thoughts. "Mai and Ty Lee switching sides just doesn't make sense. Toph, are you _sure_ they were telling the truth?"

"Well . . . Circus Freak seemed a little uncertain, but it didn't feel like an outright _lie_."

"Then we can't trust them," Jet said firmly, crossing his arms. "If there's any chance of them lying, then –"

"We have to let them join."

All eyes turned to Aang, who was looking toward the ground with his eyebrows arched in a mix of contemplation and worry. Meeting their gazes, he said, "I need a firebending teacher, and we need all the allies we can get."

"Aang . . ." Katara murmured, expression softening.

"We'll just have to keep an eye on them. If they do anything suspicious, we leave them. But right now they can offer us help we really, really need."

Eyes closed and head bowed, Sokka nodded once, reluctantly. "Alright."

"You've _can't_ be serious!" Jet said in a mix of disbelief and indignation, eyes widening.

But Aang had already split away from them, approaching the trio they now had to consider allies to tell them the verdict.

Iroh beamed and bowed, speaking for his companions (one indifferent, the other giddy) when he said, "We are honoured that you would accept us into your group. I hope that we will be able to overcome our past differences."

"I'm sure we'll get along fine," Aang said, even as his friends struggled to calm Jet a few yards away. "So, when do my lessons start, Sifu Hotman?"

"Hotman! I haven't heard that word in ages," he said with a deep, belly-laugh. Then, more seriously, he added, "Unfortunately, we cannot start straight away. First we must move to a safer location, and then discuss some . . . other issues I have brought along."

Other issues? A tiny knot formed in Aang's already-tense gut, but he nodded and swallowed passed the worry – they needed this, and whatever problem's Iroh had could be dealt with when the time came. A secure hideout came to mind almost immediately. "There's an Air Temple not too far from here. I think we should be okay there."

"Aah, a wise choice."

Overhearing their conversation, Ty Lee tiptoed closer, hands clasped against her chest as she asked, "Does this mean we'll get to see a real, live – well, technically dead since . . . Does this mean we'll get to see an Air Temple?"

"Yeah."

She squealed, clapping her hands and bouncing excitedly. Turning back to Mai, she said, "Did you hear that? We get to see an _Air Temple_!"

"I'm tickled pink with joy."

In the same moment, Sokka and the others approached Iroh and Aang, having overheard their not-to-hushed conversation.

"Wait, we're leaving?" he asked, gaze darting between the pair. "Now?"

"It doesn't seem wise to stay where you can so easily be found," Iroh explained, folding his hands together in a manner that allowed his baggy sleeves to cover them. "Because of our disappearance, the palace will send out guards to search the area and capture us. This is a very dangerous place to be."

With his left arm crossed over his chest and right hand holding his chin, Sokka narrowed his eyes, saying, "But . . . How are we supposed to get there? We can't fly Appa – not with this many people or so close to the capital. We'd be shot down in seconds."

"You're all capable young people. A little walking won't hurt."

"Uh, yeah, it will," Toph piped up, lifting one foot and pointing at it. "I've still got blisters from our _last_ little hiking adventure."

Moving to stand beside her, Jet leaned closer, muttering, "I bet this is all part of their plan. Make us moody and tired from walking, then strike when we least expect it."

"No. It just _sucks_."

XxXx

As it turned out, the temple only took a few hours to reach on foot. It was also unlike anything anyone (except maybe Aang) had seen.

"_Whoa_," Toph breathed, standing at the edge of a canyon, below which hung a series of upside-down buildings. "Okay, I gotta hand it to you Twinkle Toes – your people knew how to make some pretty awesome stuff."

Eager to see what she was talking about, everyone but Aang pile onto Appa, "ooh"-ing and "aah"-ing when the temple came into view while Aang followed on his glider. They touched down on the floor (ceiling?) of one of the many interconnecting, inverted structures, where sculptures of female airbenders were carved into the walls, cracks and ivy running rampant.

"You should all find yourselves rooms and take some time to explore the temple," Iroh said after allowing a brief moment of awe, making a shooing gesture with one hand while resting the other on Aang's shoulder. "I must have a word with the Avatar."

"Oh no you don't," Jet immediately protested, stepping forward to grab the boy in question by the wrist and yank him away. "Anything you have to say to him can be said right here, in front of all of us."

"It concerns his firebending training. I want him to make a decision based on his own judgements, without your interference. Here –" he beckoned Ty Lee with one finger "– block my chi so they know he will be safe."

"How do we know you're not armed?" he asked, even as Ty Lee proceeded to do as instructed. "How do we –"

"I'll stay close and keep a foot on them," Toph interjected. "If Gramps does anything suspicious, I'll protect Twinkle Toes, alright?"

"But –"

"I can knock him off this cliff in two seconds flat if I need to," she said, her tone suggesting she might do the same to _him_ if he didn't shut up.

Begrudgingly (it was a bad idea, it was trap, they were the _enemy _. . .), Jet nodded, throwing one last menacing glare toward Iroh before following the others down a corridor to their right.

"So . . . " Aang started once everyone had left and Toph was positioned out of earshot. "What did you wanna talk to me about?"

Speaking in a hushed, suddenly urgent tone, Iroh leaned forward as he said, "I'm not the one who should be your firebending teacher; Zuko is. He is in prison and I must –"

"Whoa, hang on – you want me to trust _Zuko_?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow and pointing at him in an inquiring manner. "After he chased us around the world and captured me and Katara?"

"Please, listen. He is the one who freed you; he has had a change of heart." Reaching into the small bag slung over his shoulder, he pulled out a tightly rolled and tied piece of paper, handing it to Aang. "He left this letter in my boot, knowing I would leave the palace to release him from prison. Please, read it."

Tentatively, Aang took the letter and opened it, skimming through its brief contents.

"_Uncle,_

_I know what you're planning, and you shouldn't do it. I set the Avatar free so he could fulfill his duty, and for that he needs to learn firebending. _You_ need to teach him. _

_Don't worry about me. I can handle whatever punishment father throws at me._

_- Zuko."_

For a moment, he just stared at the words, studied the messy penmanship (squished together words and half-formed letters, appearing to be written by someone in a rush), trying to make sense of what his sworn enemy was supposedly saying. He believed people could change, but this was . . . sudden. Unexpected. Un_explainable_.

Though, he couldn't understand why Iroh would lie about something that would endanger him – Toph said he had been telling the truth when he said he wanted to teach him firebending. Unless it was one of those truths that didn't mean what they seemed to on the surface. Maybe Iroh wanted to teach him firebending, but he wanted to do it so Aang would defeat the Fire Lord and he could claim the throne and the Fire Nation's empire for himself!

'_I sound like Sokka. Or Jet,_' he thought, shaking his head to rid it of the confusing thoughts. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be safe.

"How do I know _he_ wrote this? How can I be sure _you_ didn't?"

Iroh frowned momentarily, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a solution.

"Toph! Come. I require your assistance." he called, looking over to where the blind girl stood watching. Turning back to Aang as she approached, he said in a clear, slow voice, "I did not write that note."

Sensing what he wanted, Toph sighed and a rolled of her eyes (her job as the group's resident lie detector was quickly growing old), droning, "Truth."

But Aang wasn't convinced yet. "Say, 'I want to overthrow Fire Lord so peace can be restored to the world.'"

Obediently, Iroh repeated the phrase word-for-word, and Toph confirmed his honesty.

Looking from his potential firebending teacher, to the blind girl, to the paper in his hands, Aang frowned, weighing his options and considering the risks. Did they _need_ Zuko – would he be of any use at all? Would Iroh be willing to train him without his nephew there? Would he be able to convince the others to trust him – would he be able to convince _Jet_? Would the problems outweigh the benefits?

'_I can handle whatever punishment father throws at me.'_

What would happen to Zuko if he _wasn't_ let out of prison?

" . . . Alright. What do we need to do?"

XxXx

"You're _sure_ he never hurt you?"

Sighing, Katara abandoned the small selection of clean clothes she had been folding (Iroh had brought them, knowing she had left the palace in her bedclothes), turning to Jet and holding out her recently-healed-with-waterbending hand. "_This_ is all he did to me, and he gave the best treatment he could offer. Okay?"

"Why does it sound like you're defending him? I thought you hated his guts."

"I do, I do, I just . . ." She resumed tending to the clothes, folding and unfolding them in an attempt to hide her fidgeting. Why _was_ she defending Zuko? He had been a total jerk to her, what with the whole "I'm-kidnapping-you-because-I-love-you" thing, and yet, somehow, the few nice things he had done for her were what kept leaping to the forefront of her thoughts. Things like holding her hand while the doctor treated her burn, talking about his mother and sympathizing with her loss, having a portrait of himself as a toddler, finally realizing what a jerk he was being and _freeing_ her.

It almost made him seem . . . _human_.

Which was ridiculous, because of _course_ he was human, but that didn't mean he wasn't also a selfish, angry, firebending monster.

So, unable to come up with a satisfying explanation, she settled for an answer that was honest but not quite the actual, ever-elusive truth.

"You need to stop jumping to the worst conclusion possible when it comes to firebenders. If Iroh's going to help us, you need to have some degree of trust."

"_Why_?" Jet asked, spreading his arms and shrugging his shoulders up to his chin. "What has he done to be worthy of anyone's trust?"

"He helped us against Long Feng and Zuko when he got brainwashed –"

"That was a mutual enemy. We were working toward a common goal."

"Like now? He wants Ozai off the throne –"

"Probably so he can take it for himself!"

Squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her fingers to her temples, Katara said, "You know what? Forget it. Let's . . . let's just drop it, okay?"

"Oh, what?" he snapped, moving in beside her and grabbing one of her shirts off the bed, "folding" it into a messy ball and tossing it into the open dresser drawer on her other side. "And be caught completely unaware when we overthrow the Fire Lord and he claims the title, kills Aang, and starts a whole new war? Yeah, let's just _forget it_."

"Uh, guys? I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

The pair turned to see Aang standing in the doorway, biting his lip and glancing between them.

"No," Katara said, trying to sooth her scowl into a calmer expression. "Why? Do you need something?"

"Group meeting." However, when Jet made to move closer, he shook his head. "I just need Katara. Sorry, Jet."

"Oh, well isn't _that_ interesting?" Katara called over her shoulder, pausing in the doorway to taunt him. "Maybe your temper tantrums about new allies are to blame!"

Then she slammed the door and stomped down the hall.

Hurrying to keep up (wasn't _he_ supposed to be leading _her_?), Aang asked, "So, uh, are you two fighting?"

"No! Why would I even _bother_ fighting with my closed-minded, paranoid, idiot of a boyfriend? It's not like he would ever _listen_ or _consider_ that maybe I'm _right_ and he's _wrong_!"

"O-okay, then. I'll take your word for it."

* * *

Author's Notes: _I had hoped to post this yesterday, but... Obviously I didn't get around to it. xD Sorry. _

_Anyway, more talking. I've discovered it's very difficult to write scenes with more than, like, three characters in them. Hard to keep track of everyone and makes sure it's easy to tell who's talking without reapeatng names over and over. xP Needless to say, I'm probably going to avoid full-group scenes as much as possible. Hehe. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Avatar' or any of its characters. **


	16. Chapter 16

Aang, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Iroh gathered in what appeared to be an old sitting area of the Air Temple, plopping down on stone benches (well, actually, they were more like large, rectangular slabs of rock) arranged in a circle. Sokka and Katara were on either side of Aang, Iroh was across from them, and Toph was on a towering stone taller than she was.

"So what's up?" Sokka asked, leaning back on his hands. "Why a meeting between the original four and. . ." his gaze darted over to Iroh, "him?"

Aang and the man in question exchanged glances. Toph would have joined them, but, well. . .

"We might have more company," she supplied instead.

"_More_? Who? Did Azula track us?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Iroh assured, waving his hands dismissively. "Just, well, my nephew is in prison and I had hoped –"

"No. Nuh-uh. Nope. I draw the line at trusting the guy who kidnapped my baby sister and Aang," Sokka said, shaking his head and making protesting gestures with his arms. Once finished, he crossed them, as if to say, "Case closed".

"C'mon, Sokka, just give it a chance," Aang said. "He left Iroh a note, and it really sounds like he's had a change of heart."

"You're trusting a _note_? How do you –"

"Gramps wasn't lying," Toph cut in. "I checked."

"Well, _I_ still think it's a bad idea. You agree, don't you, Katara?"

"I-" she hesitated, glancing away. Her conversation with Jet replayed in her head. "I don't know . . ."

"_What_? Why – did you forget the part where he held you and Aang captive?"

"He let me go," she said weakly, unsurely, hugging herself and avoiding everyone's gazes.

Leaning back on her hands in mimicry of Sokka's earlier casual posture, Toph said, "It's not like it matters, anyway. Me, Gramps, and Twinkle Toes all agreed on letting Angry Jerk join us – you're out-voted."

"Well, what about the others?"

"Mai and Ty Lee already know I'm freeing Zuko and have agreed to help me," Iroh said.

"And we wanted to let Jet get used to Iroh before throwing another firebender at him," Aang added.

Grinning, Toph said, "So the vote's two against, five for, and one on the fence. Face it Snoozles; you're beaten."

With a grunt and a scowl, he crossed his arms and slouched. "Fine. But I still think it's a terrible idea."

"Now that that's settled," Aang said, rising from his seat between the two siblings, surprisingly eager, "when do we leave?"

"Not 'we'," Iroh corrected, causing the boy's shoulders to slump. "It's too dangerous to take someone as important as the Avatar into a top security prison. You have to stay here while Ty Lee, Mai, and I take care of things."

"Where is this place, anyway?" Sokka asked. "And how do you plan on getting there?"

"It's in the middle of a boiling lake inside a volcano. We'll have to fly Appa in, but he'll have to return to the temple before us; I doubt we could hide him in such a place."

"So you have no way out?"

"No, there's another way. The guards don't live there – a ship takes them to and from the prison, so we can plan our escape around that schedule."

"What if something happens?" Katara asked worriedly, looking from Iroh to Aang. "He still needs to learn firebending and there's barely time to train him as is."

"I'm going to stay a few days to teach Aang the basics and let everyone get settled in. He can practice what I've taught him while we're gone, and if anything happens to us . . ." he trailed off, a small frown forming as he tilted his head slightly toward the sky, which was blocked from view by a pillar-supported roof. "Well, I had hoped to save this meeting for a bit later, but if we're not back within a week, go to the Eastern Air Temple. I have some friends there who should be willing to help you."

At the mention of another Air Temple, Aang perked up. "There's people living there? Who? How? Why?"

"Calm yourself," Iroh said, chuckling at his enthusiasm. "You'll learn soon enough."

XxXx

The next few days passed without incident, aside from the predicted spats between Jet and Katara, and Jet's unrelenting hatred and suspicion of their new companions creating a constantly tense atmosphere.

For Aang, the days slipped by too quickly, his introduction to firebending consisting of lessons that were, well, "rapid-fire". With his usual training from Katara and Toph along with the added pressure of Sokka and Jet teaming up to teach him how to use various weapons (despite his protests), remembering firebending basics was almost as difficult as a test on the agricultural history of the air nomads.

For Mai, the days crawled by too slowly. Having Jet glaring daggers at her every second, Ty Lee dragging her around to explore every dull and dust-encrusted corner of the temple, Katara assigning chores, and living through a monotonous routine everyday was enough to drive her insane. Knowing she would be travelling to the Boiling Rock to spring Zuko out of prison in less than a week didn't help.

When the time to leave finally rolled around, good-byes had to be brief and excuses had to be made.

"Shopping?" Jet repeated, arms folded over his chest. "Why are we trusting _them_ to go shopping? Why do we _need_ to go shopping?"

"They know the area better than any of us," Katara said, mimicking his posture and matching his scowl, "so they're less likely to do something stupid and set off a red flag."

"They're Fire Nation – they _worship_ the red flag!"

"We have a lot more people travelling with us now, so we can't stretch our supplies as much as we used to," Sokka explained, ignoring Jet's comment and cutting off Katara's retort. He sat on Appa's head, reigns in hand, having volunteered to fly Appa to and from the prison. "We should be back in a day or two."

A half truth – _he_ would be back by then, along with the real story of Iroh's plan to free their former nemesis from prison. It would give Jet fair warning of Zuko's arrival, hopefully allowing him to rethink his prejudice and prevent a messy reunion.

"Don't forget to practice," Iroh said to Aang, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Remember the basics – your breathe must stoke your fire, and your stance must be rooted like an earthbender but agile like a waterbender."

He smiled and bowed, saying, "Don't worry, Sifu Hotman. I'll remember."

After saying their final farewells, the group departed, leaving for what everyone (except Jet) knew would be a very hostile situation.

By the time they finally reached the volcano and the island within, it was nightfall. Flying low through the thick steam, they managed to land undetected, even with Appa's rumbling groans of protest at the intense heat.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Sokka whispered as the trio dropped to the rocky shore.

"Well sneak in and disguise ourselves with guard uniforms, then take things from there," Iroh whispered in response. The jovial old man Sokka had lived with at the temple was gone for the moment, replaced by a serious ex-General with a mission.

Nodding, he flicked the bison's reigns with a hushed, "Yip-yip!" and was back in the air, soaring away to face his part of the job. Watching him disappear in the mist with weary eyes, Iroh murmured, "There's no turning back now."

"Good," Mai said, looking up at the prison's supposedly-impenetrable walls. "Because I don't intend to."

XxXx

"Who would've guessed finding a uniform in my size would be so difficult?" Iroh asked no one in particular as he adjusted his helmet. "Perhaps I should try getting into better shape . . ."

His two companions were clad in almost-identical uniforms, save for the smaller size and a design that better accommodated their feminine build. Mai, her hair in a long ponytail instead of its usual style (it didn't fit the helmets so well), said, "Talking to the guards seems a bit dangerous. Isn't it suspicious for three new guards to go around asking everyone where Zuko is?"

"As long as we stay calm and act natural, they won't have any reason to suspect we're hiding something," Iroh said. Then, as an afterthought, he rubbed his chin and added, "Though, you're right about all of us looking for the same thing. Perhaps we should split up, to lessen the suspicion."

After a short bit of discussion, it was decided that Mai would ask around the lounge, Iroh the courtyard, and Ty Lee the cellblocks. They would rendezvous at the north tower overlooking the courtyard in one hour.

XxXx

Ty Lee's footsteps echoed metallically as she walked down the hall, lined with locked and steel-plated doors. It was all she could do not to tip-toe and glance nervously over her shoulder every few minutes, or peek around each corner before turning it. Aside from the reverberating sound of her footfalls and the occasional snore from the prisoners, the hall was far too silent for her tastes.

Despite her anxiety, she tried to look casual as she strolled through, wondering how to approach the issue of finding Zuko. Did she look inside every cell? Ask a prisoner who was still awake? Find a guard and ask them? If she did ask someone, how should she do it – blunt and upfront, or bring it up in casual conversation?

"You look a little lost."

It was all Ty Lee could do not to scream.

Mustering up the best fake smile she could, she turned to face the man leaning against the wall between two cells. Scratching the back of her helmet-clad head and crossing one foot over the other, she said, "Oh, yeah. I'm a little new."

"You look it," said the guard who had addressed her, a young man with a friendly grin. "Any idea where you're supposed to be?"

It was a simple question, but it sent her into another panic – what would a rookie guard be doing? Where should she be stationed? What stations _were_ there?

But she had to say something, however stupid or weird it might sound (just standing there looking terrified would do no good), so she said, "I'm supposed to visit the, uh, traitor prince's cell to, um . . . Question him."

The man's eyebrows rose, and Ty Lee's immediate thought was that she had taken too long to answer, or guards didn't do things like interrogate prisoners, or he had noticed the slight trembling of her knees.

"Oh! I heard the princess was coming to speak with him. Are you here on her behalf?"

Princess? Princess Azula was going to be in the prison? The image of her ex-friend pinned to the wall – bewildered and betrayed – flashed through her mind, and suddenly her stomach was tightening nauseously.

"A little early, from what I heard," the man continued, scratching his chin. Then, with a shrug, he said, "Well, plan's change, right? Anyway, his cell is just down the hall – number 216."

"Thank-you," she managed, turning in the direction he indicated, finding her legs unusually stiff as she walked away.

What if she had to face Azula again?

* * *

Author's Notes: _Writer's block has kinda been kicking my butt this week, but I have an update nonetheless. That said, the next few updates might be late/sporadic, since my motivation comes and goes. I'll still try and write often, but, you know. Just thought I should give you guys a head's up._

_Anyway, hope you guys enjoy! A little shorter, but stuff is finally starting to happen again.  
_


	17. Chapter 17

Unable to get in contact with any guards (they were all sleeping, and the ones that were awake were monitoring the cellblocks), Mai and Iroh were forced to head to the rendezvous point early. Ty Lee arrived not long after, reporting Zuko's location.

"Why didn't you go in and talk to him?" Mai asked, leaning against the lookout tower's railing. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had lifted her helmet visor.

"He was sleeping! And, well, there were guards everywhere, and I didn't know what to tell him, or if he'd listen to me, or –"

"It's alright, Ty Lee," Iroh said, holding up his hand in a silencing gesture. "What matters is that we've found him. Now we just need to figure out the shift schedule and least suspicious way to take Zuko with us when we leave. We don't want to risk anyone following us and reporting the Avatar's whereabouts to Ozai."

Her eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Fire Lord. "Oh, um, there's another problem – Azula's coming."

"What? Why?" Mai asked, straightening away from the railing as her fisted hands fell to her sides.

"I-I dunno. A guard mentioned it when I asked where Zuko was. And I think she's coming, like, _today_."

"That's definitely a problem," Iroh murmured, frowning. "We may have to lay low for a little while."

"But we don't know how long she'll be here," Mai pointed out. "What if we miss the ferry while hiding from her and the others think we got killed? They'll go all the way to the Eastern Air Temple."

"Well, we'll just have to be careful. I don't think facing Azula would be a wise move now that she knows where our loyalties lie."

They stood in silent for a few moments, the threat of a vengeful Azula weighing heavy on their minds. She was bad enough when they were on her good side – how much worse would she be when betrayed?

"So, what do we do? About Zuko, I mean?" Ty Lee asked, trying to distract them from the issue that made her gut clench and her thoughts swirl. "Do we wait until sunrise and then go visit his cell?"

"We can't all go," Mai said. "People will notice if we do things in a group. Plus, we still need to figure out the ferry schedule."

"Perhaps I should speak to Zuko alone while you two learn what you can about the ferry," Iroh agreed. Looking to the slowly lightening sky with a slight frown, he said, "The only problem is figuring out when he will be awake."

As if on cue, a loud, hollow _dong-dong-dong_ sounded from somewhere on the wall above them, causing them to instinctively clamp their hands over the ears.

After ten clanging rings of the bell, Ty Lee uncovered her ears and said, with a familiarly bright smile, "I think now's probably a good time."

Seeming on the verge of rolling her eyes, Mai flicked down her visor and headed for the stairs.

XxXx

Despite the fact that he had given himself up – given up the boy who could restore his father's love and the girl who could make his heart flutter – and done what felt right and just and honourable, Zuko was beginning to regret his decision. Why didn't he just ignore his conscience and continue living in a comfortable palace getting pampered? It would be better than spending day after day in the Boiling Rock, night after night in a cold room and uncomfortable bed. Better then alarms telling him when to do everything.

So he had good reason to react angrily to the chubby guard who entered his cell not long after the 'get-out-of-bed-and-eat-your-breakfast-mush' bell.

"What the hell do you want? I haven't broken any rules," he snapped, glaring at his guest. He sat on the edge of his bed with his forearms rested on his knees.

The guard looked him up down, taking in the tattered maroon clothing, sour expression, and unwashed hair that looked exceptionally long out of its topknot. The judgemental gaze might have been enough to drive him to break _bones_ had the man not said, "What? You don't recognize your own uncle?"

"_Uncle_?" he cried, jumping to his feet. Then, wincing at the echo, he lowered his voice to ask, "What are you doing here? Didn't you get my footnote?"

If the situation were different, Iroh would have congratulated him on managing to make a joke. Instead, he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he said, "I did, nephew, and I have begun teaching the Avatar. But I think it would be cruel to leave you to suffer in such a place when your actions should be praised and rewarded."

"No, no, this . . ." he started, shaking his head slowly. "This is a bad idea – what if you're caught? Who will teach the Avatar?"

"I've already considered that," Iroh said, crossing the room in two steps and sitting on the bed. "If I don't return to the Avatar in a week, he'll move to a new location where a friend of mine can teach him."

Zuko continued to look unhappy with the plan, scowling down at his uncle with his brow knit.

Hoping to placate him, Iroh said, "I'm here now, so there's no point changing plans. Besides, I think you would be a much more suitable teacher for the young Avatar."

If anything, that sentiment seemed to make him feel worse. A pained look flitted across his features, and he half-turned away, biting his lip and raking his fingers through his unwashed, unruly hair. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes shut and said, "I can't teach him."

"Oh, don't be modest. I know I'm quite critical of you, but your firebending has really –"

"No, uncle, I _can't_."

"Why not? If you're nervous of them not accepting you, I assure you that they are very forgiving people who –"

"_I can't firebend_!"

Silence followed the echo of his shout, seeming to stretch on forever. In reality, it was merely seconds before there was a tap on the door and a gruff, "Everything okay in there?"

"Fine!" Iroh called back without hesitation, gaze never leaving Zuko.

A grunt, then footsteps moving down the hall.

Once certain the guard was out of earshot, he whispered, "Can't firebend? What do you mean?"

"_This_." He slid into a basic stance; angry breathes became even and rhythmic as he punched one fist forward with the strength and certainty of a master. A wisp of smoke and tiny spark was all that followed the action.

Iroh rubbed his chin, frowning. "That _is_ troubling."

"What's wrong with me?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his tone. Sinking down beside his uncle on the bed, he buried his head in his hands, groaning. "I was fine before I got here, and then, it was just . . . _gone_. I got a fever the first day, too, so I thought maybe I was just sick, but . . ." he trailed off, straightening and turning to Iroh with wide eyes. "Is it possible to permanently lose your bending?"

"A fever?" he murmured, studying him thoughtfully.

"Yeah. I had all these weird dreams and hallucinations. You and Azula were dragons, and I kept seeing mom, and . . . I forget what she looks like now, though."

"Ah, I know that this is," he said, smiling (a fact that only increased Zuko's frustration. How could be happy in such a situation?). "Your decision to let go of Katara and free the Avatar was very sudden and went against every belief you were raised with. Not only does it cause your mind to war with itself so intensely that it makes you physically unwell, but it means you lost the anger and turmoil that once fuelled your firebending."

"So . . . So does that mean it's only temporary?" he asked, expression turning slightly hopeful, fingers clenching the fabric of his pants nervously. "Do you know how to fix it?"

"I believe so. But it will have to wait until we're out of prison – we already have too much to deal with."

Nodding, a small smile found his lips. "Fair enough."

XxXx

"So how'd it go?" Ty Lee asked twenty minutes later. They had regrouped at the same lookout tower as before, trying to look inconspicuous as they exchanged information in hushed voices.

"He's not happy that we're taking time away from Aang to get him out, and he has lost his firebending."

"So, not-so-good?"

"Unfortunately. However, he has agreed to cooperate – that's the important part. What about you two – did you learn anything about the ferry?"

"We have twenty-four hours until the new guards come to switch off with the current ones," Mai said. "If we miss it, we'll have to wait another week."

So they had one chance at escape; otherwise, they would have to travel all the way to the Eastern Air Temple, costing precious time. Not to mention what a failed attempt would do to their chances of blending in – if they were caught the first time around, they would all be locked up like Zuko and in no position to sneak their way out. It was hard enough figuring out how to get just _Zuko_ freed without causing alarm.

"And Azula's coming," Ty Lee added, wringing her hands.

"You already mentioned that this morning," Iroh said, studying the wall that loomed above them with a thoughtful expression, as if working out a particularly difficult Pai Sho strategy.

"No, I mean it's on the 'Guests' schedule. She's coming, like, _this afternoon_."

Mai's eyes darted over to her, narrowing. "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"You were busy checking the other schedule, and then we had to tell those guards that story – "

"I think it's probably best that you saved it until now," Iroh interrupted, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We need to be careful what we mention around who."

Falling silent, they took a moment to ponder how someone would react if they overheard the two girls discussing Azula's arrival. It would only add to their growing list of problems.

If Azula was visiting the prison, it definitely concerned Zuko, considering what the guard had told Ty Lee when she claimed she needed to find Zuko for questioning – the princess was supposed to be doing the same later that day.

But was she really coming to interrogate him (perhaps about the whereabouts of the Avatar), or was she coming to deliver his final punishment? It wouldn't be the first time a high-profile traitor was publicly executed.

Regardless of her intentions, the trio needed to be careful. As once-close family and friends of Azula, they would be easily recognized, even when disguised.

Iroh was the first to break the silence. "We'll have to stay out of her sight."

"What about Zuko?" Mai asked, following a similar train of thought. "If she's here for him, we might not get a chance to take him on the ferry with us."

Tilting her head, Ty Lee asked, "Why? She wouldn't question him for, like, a whole _day_, would she?"

"No," Mai said, lips forming a thin line and eyebrow twitching the slightest bit, seeming tempted to slap her friend upside the head. "But she might be here for his execution."

Taking a sharp breath, she covering her mouth with her hands. Eyes wide, she lowered her hands to say, "We have to stop her!"

"Now, now – we can't rush to conclusions," Iroh said. "Maybe she's here to rally the guards about Ozai's inevitable victory!"

The two girls stared at him, expressions suggesting that was unlikely.

Unfazed, he continued, "If she's just here to interrogate him, we avoid her and focus on getting Zuko out of here as discreetly as possible. If she's here for his head . . . Well, we'll have to think of a way to protect him."

After a moment to mull over his words, Ty Lee brightened. "Oh, I know! Why don't we leave with Azula?"

"Because she'd shoot lightning at us the first chance she gets?" Mai said, raising one eyebrow slightly.

"No, I mean, she has to get here somehow, right? So why don't we just take what she comes on and leave?"

"Anywhere a member of the royal family travels, a dozen guards comes with them. Plus, the prison guards will defend her, too. We'd be slaughtered."

"Not if we take her hostage," Iroh said, picking up on Ty Lee's scheme. To Ty Lee, he nodded and grinned, giving her a congratulatory swat on the back (the force of which made her stumble), saying, "Good thinking. If we plan it out right, it just might work."

After discussing the idea further and discovering they had a few hours to get it all figured out, they agreed that someone should share the new developments with Zuko. Wanting a chance to talk to him before things got too crazy, Mai was the first to volunteer.

XxXx

The walk to his cell was an anxiety-filled one.

In her head, Mai knew it was all business and she was just supposed to explain things to him and maybe brainstorm ways to discreetly get him out of the prison and onto the gondola. But, no matter how flawlessly she hid her thoughts, that didn't mean there weren't other things she _wanted_ to tell him or _wished_ he would say to her.

It might not have been so bad had Ty Lee not decided to pull her aside and say, in an attempt at a pep talk, "It's been almost a week since he's seen Katara – this might be the perfect opportunity to grab the komodo-rhino of love by the horns!"

To which Mai replied, "What if he doesn't like being grabbed and decides to stab me?"

Still, her doubts didn't stop her from thinking maybe Ty Lee was right (she _had_ come up with their best plan yet, after all), that maybe this could be a good chance to try changing Zuko's perspective of her. They would be alone, no distractions or ways to avoid each other. He was a prisoner, and she – well, her _disguise_ – was in a position of authority. For once, she was the one in control.

Stopping outside his cell door, she took a breath to ensure her composure, then opened the door and stepped inside.

Stretched out on his bed with his arms folded over his chest, Zuko glared up at his ceiling, not sparing her a glance.

Some things never changed.

"What do you want?" he asked in a harsh tone that almost made her bristle. "I haven't even been out of my cell yet; there's nothing for you to punish me for."

"I'm not here to punish you," she said, her familiar monotone making him bolt upright.

"_Mai_?" he sputtered, wide-eyed.

"I take it Iroh didn't mention me and Ty Lee."

"What . . . happened to you?" he asked, still staring.

It was then that she remembered how different she must have looked, dressed in a guard's uniform instead of her usual baggy clothes, hair in a sleek ponytail instead of its usual bulky style. With as casual a shrug as she could muster, she said, "Disguise. But that's not important – I've got some bad news."

He tensed, eyes narrowing. "How bad?"

"Azula."

The reaction was instantaneous – a groan followed by a string of profanity as he fell back against his mattress, covering his face with both hands. "She's gonna kill me, isn't she?"

"Ty Lee came up with an escape plan."

His hands fell away to reveal a slack-jawed expression. "_Ty Lee_? You're trusting a plan by _Ty Lee_?"

"We have until noon to get everything worked out," she continued, ignoring his comment. "So far we know we're taking Azula hostage so we can use her ship. We just need to figure out how to get you out of here."

"Noon?" he repeated, sitting up so his legs hung over the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees. "We'll probably go into lockdown when she comes, but usually we get released into the courtyard before lunch. If I firebend –" he abruptly cut off, stiffening momentarily before slumping, turning his gaze away.

"What about firebending? What could you do?"

He only shook his head, saying, "Never mind. It's not important."

They fell into uncomfortable silence, Mai unsure how to pry the answer from him. It was obvious he didn't want to talk about it, but she couldn't quite understand why – he had lost his firebending, but that was no reason to withhold potentially useful information.

"You should probably get out of here," Zuko said after a moment. "The guards might get suspicious if you're in here too long."

She nodded, but didn't move, finding herself rooted to the spot. Ty Lee's words were running through her head again, reminding her of the opportunity she was faced with. Was it worth the effort?

On the one hand, there was no way he could avoid or ignore her. She could say what she wanted to say, and would have no choice but to listen and respond accordingly.

Still, there was always the intimidating possibility that Ty Lee was wrong and he still liked Katara just as much as before. The fear of rejection was a lot stronger than the lure of curiosity, making the safe option of never bringing the issue up very tempting.

But he would let her down easy, right? After all, he wasn't harsh and heartless like Azula or his father – he was more sensitive, like Iroh. Hurting people wasn't in his nature, not unless he was provoked.

Though, asking him again when he had already said "no" during that disastrous palanquin ride might be enough to draw his anger. And there was the fact that he was in prison (an unpleasant environment that could potentially make his temper more short-fused than normal) and already seemed upset by losing his bending. Would he snap at her if she tried to force him into talking about their relationship (or lack thereof)?

"Is there something else you wanted to tell me?"

His voice pulled her from her thoughts, making her wonder how long she had been staring at him.

A worry that was quickly replaced by the realization that she didn't even know how to bring up the topic she had been pondering about.

"You were with the Avatar, right?" Zuko went on, seeming to have an issue of his own he wanted to address. He looked oddly bashful, fingers fidgeting as he avoided eye-contact. "How . . . Were you talking to Katara? How is she?"

And just like that, her questions were answered.

"Fine," she said, perhaps a bit harshly, her gaze hardening and throat tightening. "She's more demanding than my mother."

A breath of a laugh escaped him, eyes softening as he looked down at his hands, smiling slightly.

An instant later, the sound of the door sliding open caused his head to jerk up, just in time to see Mai hurrying into the hall. She muttered something about meeting up with Ty Lee before slamming the door and stalking off.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Long chapter is looong. Hopefully that makes up for the shortness of last chapter._

_In other news, I may or may not have a proper update next week, on account of it being Zutara Week. I'll do my best to have another chapter by then, but I just thought I'd give a heads-up._

**Disclaimer: "Avatar" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, and in no way owned by me.  
**


	18. Chapter 18

Another bell sounded shortly after Mai's visit with Zuko, signalling that it was time for the prisoner's morning break. The cell doors unlocked and slid open, hordes of men and women in red rags being herded down the halls and into the courtyard. All the while, Mai and Ty Lee watched from the south tower (the north one already had a guard at it). Iroh was busy "patrolling" the walls.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Ty Lee said, trying to console Mai, who – after much prying – had just relayed the whole disappointing conversation with Zuko.

"It's not. I'm fine," she said, straight-faced and staring down at the prisoner's as they milled about below. Sitting on a bench where he was either glared at or ignored by the other inmates, Zuko seemed oblivious to the two girls watching him.

"No, you're not – you're upset. But don't worry! Guys can be really confusing. Maybe he's just giving you mixed signals."

"Kidnapping a girl to prove his love to her, then smiling dreamily when he hears her name seems pretty consistent."

"Well . . . What about him not wanting you to know he lost his firebending? That shows he's concerned about what you think of him, right?"

Staring down at where her hands gripped the railing, Mai found herself pondering not what Zuko's reluctance to discuss his bending loss meant, but what he had wanted to tell her _about_ firebending. It was related to their escape plan and the need to get him out of his plan; that much she knew. How exactly it was connected remained a mystery.

"We need to make one of the prisoners firebend," she announced suddenly, flicking down her visor and heading for the stairs.

Ty Lee grabbed her wrist, wide-eyed and saying "Why? What are you doing?" An instant later she gasped, leaning forward. "Are you getting one of them to attack you so Zuko can swoop in and save you and feel better about himself? That's _so_ sweet!"

"No," she deadpanned, tugging free of her friend's grip and continuing down the step, the heels of her boots clanking noisily on the metal.

"Oh . . . Why, then?"

"So I can figure out what he wanted to tell me."

"Oh," Ty Lee said again, trailing after her. "That makes sense. I still like my idea, though."

Ignoring her, Mai approached the nearest prisoner, running through all possible ways to provoke him into firebending. She already knew from what little her father told her of her uncle's job as the warden that harassing prisoners wasn't against any rules and a sort of sport for some of the guards. However, the stories were always censored for her mother and Tom-Tom's sake, so he had never told her details such as the price for retaliation.

Stopping behind a burling man who had been standing a few feet away from the stairs, she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to her, scowling. A scar ran from just below his right nostril to the left side of his chin, parting with his lips when he said, "What?"

"I saw what you just did," she said, crossing her arms.

His frown deepened, brow furrowing.

"Don't pretend you don't know. I saw, my friend saw – " she jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at Ty Lee "– and we're not ignoring it. One more step out of line and I'll be forced to take action."

"I didn't _do_ anything!" the man shouted, stepping back and clenching his fists.

"Yes, you did," Mai said, voice remaining calm and flat even as the large man seethed, his posture clearly threatening. "And if you don't tell the whole courtyard what you did – right now – I'll be taking you back to your cell."

His scarred lips curled into a sneer as he turned to walk away, saying, "I'm not admittin' to something I didn't do."

A hard punch to the back of his head had him facing her again in seconds, fist raised in preparation to retaliate.

"I need backup!" Ty Lee shouted as Mai and the prisoner began fighting. The words were barely out of her mouth when the man sent a wave of fire across the floor. Jumping to the side, Mai was barely able to avoid having her feet burned.

"Now look what you made me do!" the prisoner shouted, though he allowed himself to be subdued by the reinforcements. A guard pinned his arms to his back, nodding at Mai to indicate she should assist him.

"Meet me back at the tower?" Ty Lee asked, hands clasped behind her and a wide smile on her face.

"Sure."

With that, Mai and the male guard led the prisoner away, leaving Ty Lee and a few other guards to disperse and calm the crowd that had gathered. As she shooed away the onlookers, Ty Lee noted that Zuko was one of the few that didn't join the excitement, choosing instead to watch from afar. Even from a distance, she could see his white-knuckled fists and disapproving scowl.

It made her want to plop down on the bench beside him and cheer him up with a big, squeezy hug.

But that would probably blow her cover, so she just made her way back up to the lookout tower where Iroh was waiting for her. It was easy to pick him out even with the uniform, thanks to his rather out-of-place girth.

"Did you find anything?" she asked as she reached the top step.

"No," he said, studying her. His eyebrows were drawn together, head tilted slightly to the side. "May I ask what you were doing down there?"

"Trying to get one of the prisoners to firebend." When he continued to look perplexed, she added, "See, Zuko mentioned something about the punishment for bending when he was talking to Mai, but we don't know what it is because he wouldn't explain because he doesn't know that Mai knows that he lost his firebending. Do you think that's a sign that he's self-conscious of her opinion of him?"

Ignoring her question, he asked, "What did you find out? Can it help us?"

"Nothing yet – Mai's gone with another guard to . . . Well, do whatever it is they do."

He nodded, humming thoughtfully and staring down at the courtyard. After a moment, he said, "Well, I suppose we should check the perimeter and decide how to handle Azula."

Soon, they were strolling along the heavily-guarded walls that surrounded the prison, content to chat about trivial things until they found somewhere more private to discuss their plans. The steam from the lake drifted over the wall, making the air unbearably hot and their skin sticky with sweat.

"You're _sure_ it doesn't mean anything special?" Ty Lee asked, pulling at her uniform in discomfort

Fanning himself with one hand, Iroh said, "Positive. My nephew – unfortunately – is a very prideful person and is easily ashamed and embarrassed. It's normal for him to avoid talking about such issues."

"But he told you!"

"Only because I was very insistent about him being a firebending teacher. I don't think he would've mentioned it otherwise."

Deflating slightly, Ty Lee groaned disappointedly. "That means he likes Kat – er, that peasant girl," she quickly corrected, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. "I mean, I like her, too, and she's really nice and stuff, but M – um . . . our other friend is gonna be _so_ upset when she finds out he still doesn't like her back."

"Such is the pain of young love," Iroh sighed, staring up at the sky with a faint, knowing smile. "But don't worry; this is something she will heal and mature from. Heartbreak is good for the heart, you know."

"I think it's awful," she said as they rounded the corner.

Slowing to a stop, Iroh scanned their surroundings, saying, "Alright. I think we're safe from the other guards, now." Then, leaning forward with a serious expression, he placed both hands on both Ty Lee's shoulders. "I need you to handle Azula."

"_What_?" she nearly shrieked, eyes widening as her body stiffened, skin beginning to pale. "B-by myself?"

"Not for long. I just need you to keep her occupied while Mai and I deal with Zuko. We'll be as fast as we can, but I need to trust that you can keep her away as long as possible."

"I-I dunno . . ."

"You'll be easiest to disguise," he went on, determined to convince her. "You have sisters, right?"

She nodded.

"Are you in contact with them? Has Azula ever met them?"

"Well, no, but –"

"Then we can pass you off as one of them with some minor changes," he said in a tone that suggested there was no room for argument, hands falling to his sides. "We'll have to put some make-up on you and cut your hair – "

"My hair?" she squeaked, hand immediately flying back to where her braid appeared from under her helmet.

"Not all of it," he quickly assured her, reaching around to pinch the braid between his index and middle fingers. The gesture was frightfully similar to scissors. Letting his hand drop back to his side, he said, "You'll have to style it differently, of course, but that should be simple enough to change when we're done."

"I . . ." she stuttered, stepping back and shaking her head, hugging herself protectively. "I don't know if I can do it. Azula's . . ."

"I know, but we don't have much choice," he said, stern tone giving way to a gentler one. "Be brave and be smart; I know you can handle her."

Unfortunately, fear of Azula's strength and anger wasn't what was making her hesitant, though it certainly wasn't something she looked forward to. It was guilt at betraying her and the lingering hope that – somehow – they could still be friends. As sadistic and manipulative as she could be at times, Azula was still the little girl Ty Lee had grown up with. That side to her couldn't have disappeared completely.

How could continue to lie to and betray her childhood friend?

She couldn't say this to Iroh, however, so she just nodded and promised to do her best.

XxXx

The wait for lunch time to roll around was excruciating.

Thanks to Mai's efforts, they knew that firebending resulted in being thrown into a chamber insulated to keep cold in and heat out. It was also revealed that the prisoner would be kept in the chamber – which was called a cooler – for the standard amount of time even if the "get-back-in-your-cells" alarm rang (as indicated by the exact same thing happening during Scarred-Lip's punishment).

This meant that, if they could make it look like he was firebending, Zuko would stay in his cooler when Azula arrived, and they could escort him through the prison after his time was served without question from other guards. If anyone did confront them about it, they could easily say they were bringing him to another area of the prison under the princess's orders.

At least, that was the theory.

An hour before the lunchtime bell was to ring, the trio sat in the prison's supply room, hidden among stacks of crates. Ty Lee held her helmet in her lap, knuckles turning white from her too-tight grip; Mai held serrated a knife, fingering it like an old friend; Iroh held a bowl filled with a black paste made of soot and something else, though what materials he had used to create it was unclear. Whatever it was, it had been taken from the lounge along with the bowl and the knife.

"Do I really have to do this?" Ty Lee asked, eyeing the objects in the others' hands apprehensively. "I mean, couldn't we just – "

"No," Mai cut in as she scooted closer, grabbing Ty Lee's braid rather roughly.

"_Ow_!"

"Be gentle, now," Iroh scolded, dipping his fingers in the black substance. With a click of his tongue, he said, "It's a shame I didn't think to get any red berries. They would have made a lovely colouring for your lips."

"Seriously, guys; is this really necessary?" Ty Lee asked, blinking back tears that had sprung to her eyes due to Mai's rough tactics.

"I've already explained it to you. Now, keep your head up and your eyes closed."

With much reluctance, she obeyed, trying not to wince as Mai sawed at her thick braid trying to cut it off a little below the base of her neck. At the same time, Iroh's sandpapery fingers began dabbing the dark paste onto her eyelids, instructing her on how to act ("Be polite, but try not to smile or laugh or sound happy – she might recognize you. The same applies for fear.").

It wouldn't work. How could she stand there, face-to-face with Azula, and not crack? Not buckle under the pressure and fear and guilt? Sending in the girl who wore her heart on her sleeve was a _terrible_ idea, on par with when Mai was left to help Katara do laundry while they were in the temple and she contemplated strangling Katara with Sokka's smelly socks.

"Guys, I really don't think this will work."

"Eyes open." She complied, and was treated the sight of Iroh squinting at her, his hand in the corner of her vision. "If you keep telling yourself that – look up – then your doubt will make it a reality. Hold still or I might poke your eye out!"

"Hair's done," Mai said. In Ty Lee's peripheral, she saw her toss a long, still-braided clump of hair into a box filled with salted fish.

Continuing to smear a thin line of black beneath the girl's eyes, Iroh said, "Good, good. Now undo what's left of the braid and fluff it out. We want her to look as different as possible."

* * *

Author's Notes: _First of all, I am very, _very_ sorry for how late this chapter is. Real life combined with Zutara Week left me very preoccupied, so - while I had all this written out on paper - I didn't have the time to type it out. Again, very sorry. _

_On another note, I apologize in advance if the rest of the Boiling Rock scenes seem rushed or sloppily put together. I'm not really into this part of the story. Bad excuse, but, you know . . . I'll do my best._

_As usual, comments and criticism are greatly appreciated!  
_

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents is property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	19. Chapter 19

The lunch bell had tolled twenty minutes ago. Lunch recess ended in forty minutes. Azula would be arriving at almost the same time. Prisoner's had to stay in the cooler for half-an-hour.

There was only a small window of time during which their plan could work – they needed to be patient and time things perfectly if they wanted any hope of succeeding.

Leaning her forearms on the railing of the usual lookout tower, Mai studied the crowd below, spotting Zuko and Iroh with ease. The latter of the pair was roaming around the courtyard in a convincingly nonchalant manner, hands folded behind his back as he moved about with long, slow strides. Someone paying close attention might notice that he stayed close to one prisoner (Zuko) at all times, gravitating toward him whenever he moved. After all, it wouldn't do them any good if Iroh wasn't able to find Zuko when the time came to set the plan in motion.

Turning her gaze to the walls above them, Mai tried in vain to glimpse Ty Lee. The girl had been acting strange, her usual ditzy behaviour dampened by a sense of something Mai couldn't quite put her finger on.

It was probably just nerves – what sane person _wouldn't_ feel a little anxiety at the prospect of facing an adversary such as Azula? Still, she couldn't help the jittering feeling swelling up inside her, making her want to fidget and pace and maybe even scream. Their plan was dangerous enough already – if Ty Lee couldn't keep her cool and do her part they would be found out, which would result in either being locked up in the Boiling Rock for the rest of their lives, or execution. Mai wasn't sure which she would prefer.

Below, she noticed Iroh yawn, stretch, then scratch his butt.

The signal. It was time to move.

Zuko noticed as well, rising from his seat on the bench and sauntering across the courtyard, purposefully bumping shoulders with Iroh as he passed. There was barely time to blink before Zuko had been shoved onto his backside.

"Watch where you're going!" Iroh barked, glowering down at him.

Jumping to his feet with a matching expression, Zuko growled, "Don't you know who I am?"

He didn't flinch when the teen stepped closer with balled fists and narrowed eyes. "Yeah. Prison scum."

Zuko responded by spitting in his face.

The reaction was instant – Iroh threw a punch, Zuko ducked under it while simultaneously shoving him; prisoners began gathering in a circle to egg them on. As more punches flew, Mai darted down the stairs toward the pair.

"No one talks to the Prince of the Fire Nation that way!" Zuko was yelling as she approached, aiming a fist at Iroh's head. The older man caught him by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back.

"Stand down or you're going back to your cell," Mai ordered, stopping a few feet across from him.

Gritting his teeth, Zuko responded by punching forward with his free hand. At the same time, Iroh's hand shot out to stop him. A fireball exploded toward Mai.

Barely flinching, she sidestepped it. The courtyard had fallen silent and still as the other prisoners anticipated the inevitable punishment.

Throwing Zuko to the ground, Iroh pinned his arms behind his back and turned to Mai long enough to ask, "Could you help me with him? He's a bit of a squirmer."

"Certainly."

Then they were leading him out of the courtyard, each holding a wrist securely against his spine. Once they were a safe distance from the other guards, Iroh allowed a grin to split across his face.

"Oh, we're good."

XxXx

It had worked.

Leaning on the parapet, Ty Lee watched the burst of flame down in the courtyard dissipate in a wisp of smoke, straining her ears in an effort to hear the rehearsed shouts. Then her friends – tiny, almost indistinguishable figures – were walking away, disappearing inside the prison.

Just as planned.

Now if only she could fulfill her own duty.

"Something wrong?"

Turning at the somewhat-familiar voice, she saw the guard who had directed her to Zuko's cell early that morning (had it really been less than a day since then?). He flashed a friendly smile, though he didn't appear to recognize her with her new hair and make-up.

"No," she said, starting to turn back to the scene below. Then, an idea suddenly sparking, she paused long enough to ask, "Are you here to greet the princess?"

His grin widened, and he nodded eagerly. "Amazing, isn't it? I never thought I'd get the chance to be so close to royalty!"

"Oh, well, um," she stuttered, trying to find a gentle way to word her lie. As much as she needed him far away so she could work at distracting Azula, she felt bad about ruining an opportunity he was so excited about. "There's been a change of plans. I've been reassigned to escort the princess because she, uh . . . requested a female guard."

His shoulders fell, grin fading. "Oh."

Defeated, he walked toward the small building on the far corner of the gondola platform, inside of which there was a set of stairs leading back down to the prison's main level.

Leaning against the waist-high parapet once more, Ty Lee crossed her arms and bit back a sigh. Waiting, she decided, was the second worst part of the plan, the worst part being the plan itself (her? Against _Azula_?)It gave too much time to panic and wonder and have second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts.

Not that she had much of a choice. Backing out right then would spell disaster for her and her friends. As much terror and guilt as she felt, she _had_ to face Azula.

A bell started tolling. Below, prisoners were being ushered back into their cells while the gondola, a few feet down the wall, was beginning to glide up the cables to the lip of the volcano.

Azula had arrived.

Taking a deep breath, Ty Lee approached the platform the gondola would soon be returning to, trying to tap into her inner-Mai. Stay calm and blank and Azula won't suspect a thing - that's what Iroh had told her.

_'Would Mai be all jelly-legged?'_ she wondered, watching the gondola slide back toward her at a pace that seemed both sluggish and racing. Wiping her moist palms on her pants, she fought to at least keep her expression neutral.

The gondola docked. Its door slid open. One black boot stepped onto the platform, then another.

Sniffing, Azula wrinkled her nose. "Sulphur and prison filth. Quite the lovely welcome."

At the word "welcome", it clicked into Ty Lee's head that a princess was to be greeted with a bow, not wide-eyes and trembling legs. In one fluid motion, she collapsed to her knees, pressing her hands and forehead to the ground; she rose to her feet just as gracefully. "I-I apologize for the smell. It's hard to clean up after such scum." She mustered her best sneer, then worried she looked constipated and reverted to a blank expression. "We're honoured to have you visit."

"Really?" Azula asked, crossing her arms and studying her in a manner that made Ty Lee's whole _body_ begin to tremble.

"O-of course, the nature of your business is unfortunate," she went on, remembering her job as a staller. "It's terrible what Prince Zuko did."

"I can't say it was surprising," she sighed, shrugging with an air of indifference. "Now, where is dear Zuzu?"

She made to move forward – to the small building housing the stairs that led down to the main level –but Ty Lee grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.

Shooting her a scathing look, Azula growled, "Unhand me."

"You can't go down there yet!" Ty Lee said, grip tightening, heart hammering. Panicked, she scrabbled for an excuse. "Th-the prisoners! They might not be back in their cells. Someone could attack you, s-so I'm supposed to wait for another guard to signal by ringing a bell and –"

"Oh, please, I can handle a few lowlifes," Azula said, twisting her arm so Ty Lee's went with it, intending on making her loosen her grip.

But she held on tight, bending with her until her arm was backward in its socket. "If you get hurt, the prison will be liable and –"

"_You,"_ Azula hissed, eyes narrowed into slits. "I knew I recognized your stupid babbling from somewhere."

Her heart rate skyrocketed.

"O-oh, you might have me confused with my sister," she said, forcing a quivering smile. "I'm Ta L –"

A burst of flame interrupted her.

XxXx

"H-how much longer do I h-have t-to stay in here?" Zuko asked. The noise of his chattering teeth was audible even from the other side of the door.

"Just a little while longer," Iroh said, peeking at him through the tiny window and feeling a stab of pain in his chest. Seeing his nephew shivering so violently in the icy chamber made him wish he had thought to smuggle in a parka. The cooler was hard enough on firebenders – a person without their bending may as well have been naked at the North Pole.

Beside him, Mai flicked down her visor and muttered, "Guard's coming."

Turning away from the window, Iroh flipped his own visor down and tried to look alert, focusing on the clank of the approaching women's footsteps instead of the clatter of Zuko's teeth clicking together.

"Lovely day," he said when the female guard stopped in front of them, forcing his most charming smile.

"The prisoner in that cell needs to be let out," she said bluntly, seeming in no mood for pleasantries.

Iroh glanced at Mai, who tensed slightly. To the woman, he said, "But he's only been in for ten minutes."

"Azula ordered us to have him in an interrogation chamber. Do you want to disobey the princess?"

"Er . . ."

Behind them, there was a weak knock on the cooler's door. "G-guys? Wh-what's g-going on?"

"C'mon," the women said, trying to push passed them. "Let me through to him."

A second later she was pressed against the opposite wall with both arms pinned behind her back. Grunting as she struggled against him (she was strong, just as her job required), Iroh said, "I'm afraid I can't allow that."

Writhing in his grip and kicking at his shins, she yelled, "Help! Guards! Arrest this man! Arrest this man!"

"Mai!" Iroh barked, jerking his head toward the cell door. With a nod, she unlocked and slid it open, grabbing Zuko by the scruff of his shirt and hauling him out of the cooler.

Stumbling on trembling legs and taking in the unfolding scene with wide-eyes, Zuko asked, "What w-went wrong?"

"Something we'll have to explain later," Mai said, pushing him forward. At the same time, Iroh was forcing the female guard into the cooler and slamming the door shut.

The trio raced down the hall, knowing casualty would do no good when the woman had already alerted every nearby guard with her screaming. The faster they could get to the gondola, the better.

So much for their carefully constructed plan.

Bypassing the corridor that would lead them to the cellblocks, the hurried up a set of stairs connected to the gondola walls surrounding the prison. Zuko, still weak from his time in the cooler, stumbled on the stairs, falling to his knees and taking a hazardously long time to get back to his feet, putting all his weight on the railing.

"S-sorry," he said, sensing their urgency and gritting his teeth in frustrating. "I'm just –"

"Here."

Iroh exhaled a thin mist of steam from his nose, using his bending to spread it across the numb teen. Zuko jolted at the sudden heat, but smiled an instant later.

"Thanks," he said, wiping condensation from his face. "I feel a lot –"

"As nice as that is," Mai cut in, "we should be focusing on them."

Above them, a group of guards blocked the top of the stairs. Some wielded swords, others stood in firebending stances; all were poised to strike.

This, Iroh realized, was very bad. The odds were three-to-one, in the simple sense of enemies-to-allies, but when considering the fact that both Mai and Zuko were unarmed and the latter of the pair was in special need of protection (he was a valuable prisoner, after all), their disadvantage became a lot more apparent.

Moving so he better shielded Zuko and Mai, Iroh slid into a basic firebending stance, taking a moment to analyze their situation. They were outnumbered, badly; he had to protect two people and fight off nine. He was in the middle of a cramped staircase while the enemy prepared to charge him from the top. This was undoubtedly a horrible position, since stairs completely restricted movement and added on the risk of falling (the last thing anyone wanted to have happen in the middle of battle).

However, if he had solid ground to move freely on and the guards remained confined, the odds would even out a bit.

"Back up," he hissed to Zuko and Mai over his shoulder, deflecting and countering the first of the firebenders' attacks.

Zuko opened his mouth to question him, but paused and, seeming to think better of it, clamped his mouth shut before following Mai (who had already begun retreating).

Still fending off the other firebenders – who made up for of the nine guards – Iroh slowly backed down the stairs, wary of a costly misstep. The advantage of easy movement would not be as great a gain against the benders, since they could attack from the flat platform at the top of the stairs. For the guards carrying swords, however, it would definitely make things harder.

Comfortable now that he was off the staircase, Iroh switched from defensive to offensive. Powerful blasts of fire consumed his enemies' flames, hitting their mark unhindered. Two guards were knocked backward off their feet by the force of one blast crashing into the floor beneath them; one lost his balance and toppled forward, hitting each step with painful grunts and thuds; the cloth connecting the parts of one man's armour caught fire, sending him flailing and shouting, trying to bend away the raging flames.

As expected, the remaining guards took this as their cue to charge.

And, just as predictably, found themselves cluttered together, unable to properly evade (or even attack, since close-quarters presented the possibility of slicing off a comrade's arm) in the tight space of the stairs.

Grabbing the first one by the wrist, Iroh twisted it to make him drop his sword, satisfied when he heard a crack. A harsh blow to the throat left the guard gasping for air, while another strike busted his lip and nose.

Satisfied, he shoved him sideways over the railing and moved on to the next guard.

Zuko stooped to grab the fallen sword and, confident that it would suit his needs, moved up beside his uncle and prepared to battle one of the remaining four.

Only to discover they had all darted back up the stairs.

Watching, Mai shrugged and pushed passed the two men. "Easier for us."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Iroh said, following close behind. "They may have gone to gather reinforcements. We must be quick."

Reaching the top of the stairs, they hurried passed the semi-conscious guards, sprinting down the hall short hall toward the door that opened onto the gondola platform. Bursting out into the daylight, they braced themselves for a confrontation with Azula in all her raging glory.

Only to discover she was nowhere in sight.

* * *

Author's Notes: _These recent chapters have been so hard to write. Dx I think it's a combination of trying to develop Mai and Ty Lee, two of the most under-developed characters in canon, and having to deal with so many fight scenes. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	20. Chapter 20

The platform was empty. There wasn't another soul in sight; not Azula, not Ty lee, not any of the guards.

Disbelieving, Zuko stepped out from the doorway. "Where did –?"

A roar of fire interrupted him. Whirling around, he saw – on the wall parallel to where he stood – Ty Lee arching backward to avoid a dart of blue flame. An arcing kick of fire forced her flat on her back, rolling to the side half-a-second later to escape a downward strike.

Then she flipped up onto her hands, forcing her body backward over the parapet and landing on the watchtower platform below.

Azula followed close behind, leaping down from the wall and landing in a cat-like crouch.

"I guess we're not the only ones who ran into trouble," Iroh mused.

"That's putting it lightly," Zuko snorted, watching as several guards followed, unable to keep up with the agile girls.

Thankfully, no one had noticed to the trio yet, too focused on Ty Lee to pay attention to anything else. Much as they would have liked to keep their escape secret, however, the acrobat needed help, and quickly.

Turning to Mai and Zuko, Iroh began giving out instructions, telling Mai (who was unarmed and wouldn't be much use in a fight) to get the gondola ready for their escape, and Zuko to take care of the guards while he assisted Ty Lee.

He was throwing himself over the parapet just as the guards finally took notice of the imposters and escapee.

One of them rushed Zuko, a coiling whip of flame at the ready. Dodging around the lashing fire, Zuko moved in close enough to strike upward with his sword, aiming for the guard's unprotected armpit. The blade tore his flesh with ease, falling the man jut as another came from the side.

Twisting and swinging, Zuko's arm jarred painfully when the guard met his attack with a sword of his own. There was the screech of metal-on-metal as each tried to overpower their opponent, only to break away in preparation for another strike.

They swung and parried and blocked and jabbed, and Zuko barely avoided a dart of flame to the back of the head while ducking under a slice at his throat.

It wasn't long before he was surrounded, moving faster than he ever had in his life and wishing desperately for his Dao broadswords. His single sword – not carrying quite the way he was accustomed to – wasn't nearly as good at handling such a situation as his two broadswords were.

A noise caught between a shriek and maniacal laughter came from below. Despite his own problems, Zuko couldn't help worrying about his uncle was fairing.

XxXX

Cyan flames zipped passed Iroh's face, missing him by inches. There wasn't a moment to make a strike of his own; Azula stood at the center of the watchtower, arms twisting in a rapid circle, a wide arc of flame following the motion like a windmill about an axis. There was barely an inch of space between Iroh and the rotating flames.

"I can do this for hours, uncle dearest," Azula taunted, her lips pulled into a tight, unnatural smile. Her narrowed eyes were reflecting the blue flames eerily, pale skin glowing in the light. Turning to Ty Lee, who cowered in the corner opposite Iroh, she said, "What about you, _Ty Lee_?" The name was spat like it carried a foul taste. "Is it hot enough for you yet?"

Watching as Ty Lee's face crumpled with increasing terror, Iroh gritted his teeth. The cramped space he was trapped in didn't allow the required manoeuvrability to disperse the fast moving flame without injury, but Ty Lee had all the agility and acrobatic skill necessary to stop the rampaging princess. Compared to cart-wheeling across a tightrope, moving in the confined space should have been easy for her.

Unfortunately, in the face of Azula's rage-fuelled power, she seemed to have forgotten any abilities she might possess.

"What, you won't fight back?" Azula asked, voice high and grating. "No fireballs? You're not going to block my chi?"

Much as Iroh would've liked to, it was decidedly dangerous to supply her with more fire. In his initial attack, when he still had the element of surprise, she had turned two controlled jets of flame into her current, raging ring.

'_Please, Ty Lee_," he silently begged, trying to catch the girl's gaze through the madness. '_You must try to fight back_.'

But she only trembled, wide eyes fixed on Azula. He decided she was probably doing her own share of silent pleading.

The azure blaze flew by again, a stray spark almost catching his beard. The heat had grown unbearable, even worse than the steam from the lake that wafted over the prison wall. Briefly, he wondered if he was about to be boiled like water in a teapot (now _that_ would be an interesting fate), before noticing that it wasn't just the air around him that had grown hot. The metal rail burnt where the bare parts of his arm touched it.

The blue fire passed again, bringing with it a flare in the rail's heat.

Glancing down at the platform below their feet, Iroh noted how the metal surface was beginning to redden ever-so-slightly. The only metal in their immediate proximity not heating up was their armour, which was likely tempered to withstand the intensity of firebending.

Again, the fire passed.

Slowly, a grin crawled across Iroh's face.

"Why so cheery, uncle dearest?" Azula asked, expression and movements and tone no tamer than the fire she wielded. "Looking forward to seeing Lu Ten again?"

"Quite the contrary."

His hands (palms down, fingertips touching, elbows jutting out) pushed downward in a sharp, sudden motion, forcing the wheeling flames to collide with the metal on which they stood. It didn't sputter or dissipate; its momentum was unhindered as it super-heated the thin floor of the platform. Soon, the whole thing was collapsing and they found themselves hurtling toward the courtyard.

Once in flight, Ty Lee's instincts seemed to take over. Throwing her weight backward in mid-air, she flipped head-over-heels away from Azula and the plummeting platform. A second flip had her upright seconds before landing on her feet, only to jump back an instant later to avoid the platform crashing to the ground.

The other two met the ground with considerably less grace.

Rolling to her feet, Azula shot a fireball at Iroh, aiming for his head. It missed by inches as he dived to the side.

More surges of fire were traded between the pair as each tried to force the other back, knowing that being trapped in a corner would spell death. On the sidelines, Ty Lee watched uncertainly, her forced acrobatics reminding her how competent she was while the ongoing fight revealing the extent of Azula's power.

Then Iroh – wearing an expression of grim determination – found himself increasingly close to being cornered, and Ty Lee knew she had to step in.

With a deep breath (_I can do this, I can do this, I can do this_), she darted across the courtyard toward the scrimmaging pair, noting that Azula's back was toward her. Maybe, just maybe . . .

The princess whirled around just as Ty Lee was about to strike, sending a stream of fire at her before turning back to deflect a jet of flame from Iroh. Narrowly avoiding the attack, Ty Lee charged forward once more.

Another blast met her efforts. She weaved around it, then another, and another, and another. Soon the trio was locked in a pattern, everyone evading and attacking at the same time.

Eventually, Iroh found himself backed against a wall. With a wild, victorious grin, Azula punched a fistful of fire at his chest, only to have him duck and roll to the side. In the same breath, Ty Lee was flitting toward her, aiming pointed fingers at a pressure point on her shoulder blade.

But Azula was alert and nimble, dodging away in the direction opposite Iroh.

The old man muttered something that sounded very much like a curse. "She's too fast. We have to corner her."

"But she won't let us! She's too smart t fall for any tricks!"

Narrowing his eyes, Iroh studied the girl in question, who stood – breathless – several metres away. Her expressions and mannerisms had changed, seeming manic and unstable in comparison to her usual calm, unwavering control. Though he wasn't sure of the cause, it was apparent that she was unravelling; that was where their advantage lay.

"I think we can manage," Iroh muttered. "We just need to provoke her."

Ty Lee paled, eyes widening. "I-isn't she mad enough?"

"No, we need her to lose all control. Now, go – say something to make her angry."

"_Me_? Why me?"

"You were her friend. I'm sure you know what upsets her better than I do."

Blinking, she glanced between Iroh and Azula, mouth hanging half open, frozen mid-protest.

"What's the matter?" Azula called from across the courtyard, apparently impatient with their hushed conversation. "Giving up already?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," Iroh said. To Ty Lee, he inclined his head ever-so-slightly in the direction of the princess, widening his eyes meaningfully.

She chewed her lip, fingernails biting into her palms as she clutched her clenched fists to her chest.

She knew exactly what to say, exactly what was hurting her old friend. It had been made pretty clear during their one-on-one fight, when Azula had shouted and shot with all the conviction of a woman scorned.

But how could she? How could she turn to her and pour salt into fresh wounds?

"You know, Ty Lee," Azula said in a harsh, sing-song voice, "there's a place here for traitors. Why bother leaving? And of course Mai and my dear uncle can keep you company." Continuing to saunter forward, her tone turned to one of false sympathy. "Of course, Zuzu won't be able to join you. He'll be too busy with the firing squad once I've gotten all the information I want out of him."

And just like that, she remembered three things far more important than their crumbling friendship.

"You know what, Azula?" she said, letting her hands fall to her sides. "You were right about everything you said earlier."

The princess froze, eyes turning to slits. "What?"

"When you were asking me about why I left after being so loyal. It _is_ like your mother said; you _are_ a monster. I _do_ value Mai and her love for Zuko more than you. I _did_ run away to the circus just to escape you."

Her fists were clenching, teeth barred like a hyena-lion's.

"You _are_ too demanding," Ty Lee went on, putting her hands on her hips and leaning forward with the expression of someone about to deliver the final blow. "And that's putting it lightly! You abuse your power, you scare everyone, your aura is so angry its black and –" her entire posture changed as though struck with an epiphany "– the only reason I ever became your friend is because I was terrified of you!"

Releasing a wordless roar of outrage, Azula snarled, body becoming rigid and tense, poised to kill. "You'll regret that! You'll regret ever defying me!"

Then she started throwing not fire but _explosions_, her temper so out of control that anything she tried to bend blew up in her face. It was reminiscent of a volcanic eruption, destroying everything in its path.

"Behind me!" Iroh barked to Ty Lee, bracing himself against the concussive blasts. She didn't hesitate to obey.

Craters formed, rubble flew, spidery cracks split across the earth. One explosion came dangerously close to the pair, almost throwing them off their feet.

When there was a lull in the chaos and Azula was reeling from her own attacks, stumbling back and breathing raggedly, Iroh made his move.

A torrent of flame rushed toward her, nearly unavoidable and forcing her to the side. More flames followed, small bursts that exploded like grenades when she tried to bat them away (an effort that did her more harm than good). A long, serpentine blaze came next, darting passed then curving back toward her, only to flit away at the last second.

"Stay still!" Azula roared, punching and pulling at the fiery creature, too riled to overpower Iroh and seize control.

Something pinched her shoulder. Suddenly, she couldn't move her arm.

Before the realization of what had happened could fully sink in, there were a dozen more sharp jabs hitting her in the back, arms, and legs. An instant later she found herself on the ground, Iroh standing over her with a satisfied smirk.

Ty Lee, on the other hand, seemed stunned, staring at her hands like they were some foreign object.

Stooping, Iroh hefted Azula's limp body onto his shoulder (which she screamed defiantly and uselessly over), straightening as he said, "We'd better hurry. I'm sure Zuko and Mai will be worried after all the noise we've made."

"Right," Ty Lee murmured, drifting along behind him as he headed for one of the still-standing watchtowers.

Once up the stairs, they heaved themselves back up onto the wall above. Iroh passed Azula to Ty Lee, who scurried up and dropped her so fast one would think the princess carried some sort of contagious disease. After Iroh managed to haul himself up, he slung Azula over his shoulder again and they sprinted toward the gondola platform, gazes darting about for hostile guards (well, Iroh was on the lookout, anyway. Ty Lee had moved from completely shocked to dazedly euphoric).

The sight of Zuko standing in the gondola's doorway, waving a bloodied sword and smiling despite the minor cuts and burns scattered all over his body, assured them that the coast was clear.

"What the hell happened down there?" he demanded, dropping his sword so he could take his sister from Iroh (an act that only succeeded in making her scream _louder_). "I was still fighting when I heard the explosions, and –"

"Talk later," his uncle snapped, cramming passed him into the cable car. "The other guards would've heard, too, and they'll be on their way any minute." Gesturing to the lever that would cue the gondola to begin gliding up the cables, he said, "Ty Lee, hit the switch, break it off, and get in."

Obediently, she flipped the switch, causing the gondola to lurch to a start. Then she proceeded to kick at the lever with all her might, trying to break it off as Iroh had instructed.

"Good thing you sent her," Mai said, watching from one of the cable car's many windows as her friend finally succeeded in snapping the lever and – unable to reach the car at its current distance – leapt up onto the cable and proceeded to run across it like a tightrope. "Anyone else would've been screwed."

"Well you're still screwed!" Azula shrieked from where she had been laid down in the corner. "You're all screwed! You won't get away with this! Father will have your heads!"

As she continued to rave, Iroh frowned down at her, saying, "We should find a way to keep her quiet. Otherwise she may tell the guards to cut the lines."

Wordlessly, Mai tore off a strip of fabric from the stomach of her uniform. Crumpling it in a ball and stooping to Azula's level, she shoved it in her mouth, earning muffled shrieks of outrage. Straightening, she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms. "Better?"

Iroh grinned. "Much."

An instant later, Ty Lee was swinging in through the window opposite Mai, asking, "Did I miss anything? Hey, did someone put a sock in Azula's mouth?"

"It's to keep her quiet," Zuko explained, watching from window in the door as the prison slid further away. The movement didn't feel fast enough, however, especially when several guards burst out onto the gondola platform, looked up to see them retreating, and began to bark indistinguishable orders at each other.

Observing from over his nephew's shoulder, Iroh said, "Girls, get Azula over here so we can show the guards we have a hostage."

A moment later, Mai and Ty Lee had hoisted up Azula – still snarling – and shoved her head out of one of the windows. Below, the uniformed men continued to shout (were they arguing?) for a little while longer, but made no hostile movements toward the escapees.

Zuko allowed himself a small sigh of relief, though he couldn't bring himself to relax just yet. There was still the ship to capture, and he knew how stubborn and dedicated the royal guard was. With only Iroh and Ty Lee able to fight . . .

Of course, the guards didn't _know_ they were defenceless. Still, even the small ship he had lived on while hunting the Avatar had carried a formidable number of soldiers. It wouldn't matter if they _thought_ they were fighting four instead of two; they could still easily overpower them.

_'We have her held hostage,_' he tried to reassure himself. _'They won't do anything rash if they think it'll harm Azula._'

The gondola inched up the cables to the top of the volcano, finally docking. They all hurried out and began scanning the coastline for a ship.

There was none.

Instead, they spotted a large basket with what appeared to be a burner in its center, a large envelope of red material donning the Fire Nation insignia spread out on the ground beside it. There were no guards in or around it.

"So . . ." Ty Lee said, glancing between the hot air balloon and Azula. "I guess this means we don't need a hostage anymore?"

* * *

Author's Notes: _It's finally done! I never have to revisit the Boiling Rock again! _

_I apologize if this feels at all rushed in places. I just really wanted to be done with this part so I could get back to the Air Temple where everyone else is. XD_

_Also, school is starting soon, so the next few chapters might be a bit sporadic. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	21. Chapter 21

The gentle ebb and flow of her element did nothing to soothe Katara, who was practicing by the fountain in an effort to distract herself from her worries. Sokka had arrived hours earlier – before the sun had even risen – to help break the news to Jet about Iroh's true purpose in leaving the temple.

It hadn't gone well. Not that anyone had really expected it to.

Because Jet was Jet and his hatred of the Fire Nation was as much a part of him as her waterbending was a part of her. It was something he and the Freedom Fighters had lived with for years, had thought about everyday and probably dreamed about every night. If he was ever going to let go of his grudge, it would take a lot of persuasion and time and insane patience on their end.

And, really, who was she to blame him? It wasn't like she was exactly fond of their new allies; despite having (sort of) okayed Zuko's rescue and recruitment, she was nowhere near forgiving or trusting of him - or, for that matter, Mai and Ty Lee. Iroh she could accept, since he had always been more of a sideline character, not helping her or Zuko or Azula and just going along for the ride. It was hard to feel comfortable with the idea that her former-enemies-who-had-yet-to-prove-themselves-as-allies would be sleeping just down the hall from her and, more importantly, Aang.

Still, somehow, Katara found herself agreeing to give them another chance and annoyed at Jet when he refused to so much as budge in his stance against them.

Maybe Zuko had drugged her before setting her free.

The distinct sound of a thousand-year-old stone wall exploding behind her snapped Katara out of her thoughts.

"Sugar Queen!" Toph called, obviously the source of the destruction. "Get over here! Sokka says there's some kinda Fire Nation balloon headed toward the temple!"

That was all she needed to drop her water and hurry to the upper levels of the temple.

XxXx

A red balloon with the Fire Nation insignia emblazoned on it in bold black was drifting toward them, descending at a sluggish pace. Everyone waited for it near the edge, ready to attack at the slightest provocation.

"Something's off," Sokka muttered, though he didn't dare lower his boomerang. "They're not shooting any fire or anything. Isn't that the point of a war balloon? To attack from the sky?"

"Maybe they don't wanna hurt us," Aang suggested, earning many incredulous stares. Shrugging, he said, "What? They wouldn't be the first firebender's to come in peace recently."

"That's because General Iroh didn't come in peace," Jet spat. "Don't you get it? He just came here so he'd know where the Avatar was hiding, and now he's gone off and reported our location to the Fire Lord! I bet they didn't even imprison Zuko!"

There was no time for further argument, however. The balloon had landed on the earth above the inverted, hanging temple, and a rope had been lowered down the side of the cliff. Instinctively, the group prepared themselves for battle -

– Only to be greeted by Iroh sliding slowly down the rope, managing a broad smile despite the obvious strain when he saw them. Throwing his ample weight to the side, he swung the rope toward the temple and released his grasp, landing in a crouch.

Rising to his feet, he took a deep breath, arms spread wide as if to embrace the entire structure. "It's so nice to see familiar faces again! You wouldn't believe the trouble we ran into."

Smirking, Toph nudged Jet in the ribs and whispered, "Ooh, yeah, we're in _huge_ trouble, Queen Bee. Might as well just surrender now."

The teen gave no response save for a low growl.

Behind Iroh came Ty Lee (who didn't seem to slide down the rope so much as flip from the top straight down), Mai, and finally Zuko.

It was then that Katara noticed the difference in their appearances – Mai's hair in a long ponytail instead of its usual style; Ty Lee's cut short and fluffed at the bottom; Zuko dressed in ragged prison clothes world's away from the regal robes he had worn back at the palace, his hair long and messy and in need of a good washing. All of them were peppered with cuts and burns, though none appeared to be badly injured.

Sighing, Katara crossed her arms and said, "I'm gonna have to spend all afternoon patching you guys up, aren't I? And I'll have to go into the market to get you –" she pointed to Zuko, whose muscles visibly tensed "– a new outfit."

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," Iroh said, waving a hand as if to bat the idea away. "I'm sure I can find Prince Zuko some proper clothing."

"A-and you don't have to worry about healing me," Zuko rushed to add, standing rigid and military-like, as though a single misstep could spell death. "It's just a couple cuts. They don't bother me."

As he spoke, a small gash on his cheek reopened. Blood trickled out, running down his cheek.

"Right," Katara said, rolling her eyes as she stepped closer, already uncorking her waterskin. Behind her, anger seemed to roll off Jet in palpable waves.

Shifting uncomfortably, Zuko glanced between her and – over her shoulder – Jet. "Um, maybe it can wait. I'm kinda tired."

Before anyone could question him further, he darted away, climbing the stairs on their left with the determination of someone who knew exactly where he wanted to be.

Or maybe it was the determination of someone who knew exactly where he _didn't_ want to be.

Watching his retreating figure, Sokka frowned then – shrugging – said, "So, what kind of trouble did you guys run into? Anything we should worry about?"

"Yes, it's something we should worry about!" Jet snapped, moving to stand between his friends and enemies (well, who _he_ considered enemies), stance tense and hostile. "Wherever they went, I bet they told everyone where we are, or made sure they were being followed when they left! We can't trust them, not when it endangers Aang."

Iroh, glancing from Jet to the other teens, began to shuffle away, muttering something about getting cleaned up. Mai and Ty Lee weren't far behind.

"And what do you think we should do?" Aang asked, grip on his staff tightening. "I need to learn firebending and right now we have two amazing firebenders to teach me. We'll deal with the risks when we have to."

"So you're not gonna do anything? You're just gonna let them try and snuff you out and –"

"No one's tried to snuff him out," Katara cut in, eyes narrowed. "They haven't done anything wrong yet."

"_Nothing wrong_? Did the entire _week_ you were held against your will suddenly just slip your mind?"

"What I mean is they haven't given us any reason to believe their reform is faked," she corrected, tone slow and tight. "Until they do something to make us think otherwise, we should leave them be and let Aang get the training he needs."

This, however, didn't seem to soothe Jet's outrage.

"And what if we're attacked?" he said, gesturing toward the vast canyon behind them. "What if a whole fleet of Fire Nation ships swarm the temple while we're sleeping and wipe us out? What'll we do then? Oh, that's right – _nothing_, because we'll be _dead_."

"I guess I can see your point," Sokka sighed, arms crossing. "If it'll make you feel better, we can take turns being lookout at night."

"And," Toph said, punching her fist into her palm, "I can do some digging around to make sure there's nothing suspicious going on with our new friends."

Jet frowned, not seeming fully satisfied by their offers, but nodded nonetheless.

XxXx

The next morning came bright and early with the intense heat typical of the Fire Nation. When the sun rose Zuko went with it, as per Iroh's instructions the previous evening.

He changed into the clothing Katara had gotten him the night before (something he had marvelled at, since she bought clothing and only clothing, travelling to the market and back again in the same amount of time his uncle usually spent in a single shop). The dim rays of dawn were the only light to see by.

"Morning, Angry Freak," Sokka greeted when Zuko entered the kitchen, sitting at an antique table beside a large window. Soft daylight flooded the room, highlighting dust that hung on the air. Standing at a wood-burning stove on the opposite side of the room, Katara busied herself preparing breakfast.

A sharp, familiar pain assaulted Zuko's head as he took a seat across from Sokka. Rubbing his forehead, he muttered, "Where's Aang?"

"He's off with Iroh trying not to burn leaves or something," he said, waving his hand in a dismissive circle. Then, tilting his head slightly, he studied Zuko for a moment. "Are you alright? You look like you just swallowed a boar-cupine."

Another pang. Images flickered passed his eyes (_a blue-eyed boy charging, wielding a spear, black and white paint covering his face_).

"Fine, just . . . headache."

"First day here and already lying?" Toph asked as she entered the room. Clicking her tongue disapprovingly, she said, "That's not a very good start, Sparky."

In an instant, Katara had crossed the room to loom over him, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed. "Why are you lying?"

"Yeah," Sokka said, leaning forward over the table. "What've you got to hide, Angry Freak? Why so curious about where Aang is?"

Elbows rested on the wooden table top, Zuko pressed his fingertips to his temples, managing a grim smile. "Which is it – Angry Freak or Sparky?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"I'm supposed to help teach him. I can't do that if I don't know where he is."

The sibling's gazes darted toward Toph, who – apparently sensing their stares – shrugged and said, "Truth. I was more concerned about his headache."

Turning the full force of her glare on him, Katara snapped, "Well? What's with the headache? Why lie about it?"

"It _is_ a headache, just . . . different."

"How? Why?"

Wincing at the volume of her voice and new images flitting through his mind, Zuko said, "It's just a side-effect of what the Dai Li did to me. I get these awful headaches when I start remembering things."

Sokka raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd gotten all your memory back when your uncle snapped you outta that weird trance."

"It's kind of . . ." he paused, searching for the right word, ". . . complicated. I do remember most things, but if I haven't been around a person or a place for a while, it all gets kind of . . . fuzzy."

A pat on the shoulder alerted him to Toph standing at his side. With a grin and another pat, she said, "That's all I wanted to know. See? Telling the truth isn't so bad, is it?"

Throwing him on last narrow-eyed gaze, Katara turned on her heel and stalked back over to the stove, where a pot of rice was bubbling away. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Leaning back in his chair – only the back two legs remaining on the ground – Sokka crossed his arms and kicked his feet up on the table.

If he wasn't treading a minefield when it came to the other boy's opinion of him, Zuko would have pointed out how unsanitary and impolite it was to put one's boots where everyone ate.

"So," Sokka started, rocking his seat back and forth, "what exactly are these flashbacks about?"

"You."

Turning toward the pair, one hand holding a wooden spoon and the other on her hip, Katara said, "Why didn't you – _Sokka_! _Get your feet off the table_!"

In his haste to obey her (the pot of boiling water would make a terrifying weapon), Sokka threw off the precarious balance of his chair, tipping it backwards and toppling onto the floor.

Half-a-second later he scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off. "I'm okay! I'm okay!"

Despite his attempt at nonchalance, Toph cackled wildly, a noise that did nothing to ease Zuko's pounding head.

"I'm gonna see what uncle's up to," he muttered, suppressing a groan as he rose from his seat. Maybe some fresh air and quiet would help.

XxXx

He found Iroh and Aang in an open air courtyard by a gurgling fountain, no roof above their heads to fend off the sun's merciless heat. Sitting off to the side with arms crossed over his chest and back pressed against the wall, Jet watched Iroh – and now Zuko – like a dragon-hawk. At that moment the Avatar was practicing one of the more basic firebending techniques, his flames small and pathetic.

"Breathe!" Iroh barked from where he sat on the edge of the fountain. "You cannot have proper fire if you do not feed it!"

Aang hissed air passed his teeth, running through the motions again only to achieve the same results. "I'm trying!"

"You're not putting enough energy into it," Zuko said as he moved to take a seat beside his uncle, finally catching his and Aang's attention. "Give it some juice."

"I-I am," Aang insisted, not quite as convincingly. His eyes had widened slightly, mouth forming an uncertain frown.

Another jolt of pain hit Zuko, images flashing through his mind (_a bald boy, arrow tattoos, wooden staff spinning flames away, peasants shrieking in terror_ –).

"Is something wrong, nephew?"

Meeting Iroh's worried gaze, he managed a weak smile. "Fine, just . . . headache."

Recognition flickered over his face, expression and posture softening sympathetically. He had, after all, been with him when his memories of family and home were restoring themselves. "Perhaps you should lie down."

"No, I'm fine. It'll pass."

From where he sat slouched against the wall, Jet snorted. "What good are you to us if you're sick?"

"I'm not sick," Zuko said, narrowing his eyes at him and clenching the red fabric of his pants. "It's a headache it'll –"

"Pass. I know. I just think it's awfully convenient that you got a headache the first day you're here and can't teach Aang."

He opened his mouth to protest – to say that he was fully capable of training the Avatar his current condition – only to realize that he _couldn't_. Clamping his jaw hut, he scowled down at his knees.

Jet's smirk was practically audible. "See? I knew it – you're not here to help us; you're here to sabotage us."

His head jerked up, every muscle stiffening at the accusation. "I'm not –"

"_Guys_!" Aang yelled, stepping between the pair. Despite the considerable distance already separating them, it worked. It was harder to argue with one person when you had to look at another. Gaze darting between them, Aang said, "It's not gonna help anything if you guys can't get along. Fighting the Fire Lord is gonna take teamwork, not hostility."

Glaring somewhere to his left, Jet muttered something about already facing the Fire Nation, but otherwise listened to the young Avatar.

Beaming, Aang then turned to Zuko, saying, "You _can_ teach me, right?"

"Uh . . ."

"Not at the moment," Zuko supplied for him, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Because of his sudden reform, he has lost the drive that once fuelled his firebending. However –"

A loud bark of laughter interrupted him. All eyes turned to Jet, who merely shrugged. "Can't help appreciating the irony."

"_However_," Iroh continued, sending the boy a disapproving glance, "I know how he can regain it. But first –" he turned to Aang, whose expression immediately fell "– Avatar Aang must learn this technique. I'll make a lesson of it tomorrow."

"Wait," Zuko said, looking between himself and the tattooed monk. "You're going to train me _with_ the Avatar?"

Iroh nodded, smiling.

"But he still has his bending – it won't do him any good."

"Oh, I think this is a lesson all firebenders could benefit from. And frankly . . ." he paused, sending Aang a sidelong glance, "the Avatar _barely_ has his firebending.

Aang pouted, crossing his arms and opening his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by Katara appearing at the door that lead to the inner parts of the temple.

"Breakfast is ready!" she called, one hand on the doorframe and the other at her hip, a smile stretched across her lips. As Aang darted passed, followed (much slower) by his male companions, she wrinkled her nose and added, "Ugh. Maybe you should wash-up first."

XxXx

Zuko's first meal in the Air Temple proved both painful and uncomfortable, for a variety of reasons.

The pain sprung from his flashbacking-headache, which focused mostly on Sokka and Aang. There was also the matter of Jet's heated, unyielding gaze, which made him wonder of the teen wasn't a firebender himself and trying to burn a hole in his head. The only moment Zuko was free of the intense stare was the occasional instance of Ty Lee or Mai (but usually Ty Lee) doing something that warranted the attention of the most anti-Fire Nation person at the table.

The headaches were one of the many discomforts, along with his uncushioned chair, sitting across from Katara and beside Mai, the crazy lemur (Mama, was it?) using his hair as a nest, and being forced to endure his uncle telling stories about his and Azula's childhood.

If breakfast took longer than fifteen minutes, he surely would have been a dead man.

"So, Sparky," Toph said, shoving her empty bowl to the side and kicking her feet up on the table. All scolding from Katara fell on deaf ears. "Any memories of me poppin' up yet?"

"No," Zuko said, doing an impressive job of hiding his revulsion at her dirt-caked feet. "I don't know you well enough to have lost any."

"Really?" She almost looked disappointed at the prospect of not being the cause of his headaches. Jabbing a finger at Jet, who sat beside her, she asked, "What about Queen Bee?"

Briefly meeting the other's gaze (well, death glare), he shook his head. "None of my memories of him were altered, since he knew me as Li when it happened."

"Well . . . Is there _anyone_ besides Snoozles making your head hurt?"

"Just Aang."

As if on cue, a sharp, excruciating pain assaulted his mind along with a dozen images flashing passed his eyes. Spots of dark and light clouded his vision. He barely registered the others' voices as he gripped is skull and gritted his teeth.

_The boy's eyes glowed, arms moving, flooding the ship with a torrent of water – _

_The boy stood, arms and legs in chains, mouth opened in a scream – _

_The boy sat beside him ("Do you think we could've been friends?"), knees hugged to his chest – _

_He stood in an ancient temple, bandaged, angry, determined ("__First, we'll check each of the air temples. Then we'll scour the world –")_

Something cool and soothing pressed against his temples, easing the pain just as it grew unbearable. The memories, rather than flooding through in a chaotic mess, slowed to an easy flow, each one clear and distinguished.

Zuko blinked the stars from his eyes, noting that he was now on the floor _beside_ the table and that everyone was staring at him.

"Is that better?" he heard Katara ask, quickly connecting the subsiding of his massive headache to her healing abilities.

"Y-yeah," he said, surprised at the tremor in his voice and body. "That's a lot better. Thanks."

Katara responded by returning her water to its pouch, getting to her feet, and crossing the room, saying, "You wouldn't have been much help in that condition."

"What exactly happened?" Mai asked. A glance up told him that she, too, was out of her seat, standing a cautious distance away. As usual, her expression remained blank.

"A lot of flashbacks at once," he said, rising to his feet unsteadily, using the table for support. Glancing around the room with sudden recognition, he murmured, "I think I've been here before."

Still seated, cheek resting against his palm, Sokka raised an eyebrow. "You mean this morning?"

"No, a long time ago. I think –" another flash (_"The only view I'm interested in seeing is the Avatar in chains._"), then he blinked and returned to the present " – I think I came here looking for Aang."

"Aw," Ty Lee cooed, clasping her hands together and staring dreamily toward the ceiling. "And now that you've finally found him, you wanna help him. That's _so_ poetic!"

If Mai were anyone but Mai, she may have scoffed.

Since Jet was Jet, he actually did. "Right. And we're supposed to believe everything's changed."

Toph tapped her foot on the floor in the manner someone might cup a hand over their ear. "Hm . . . Nope. Sounds like Sparky's telling the truth to me."

"Guys," Aang said, sending both scolding glances. "I think we need to be more concerned about _Zuko_ instead of what he _might_ be planning." Turning to the Zuko, he asked, "Are you alright? Do you think you can still train with me tomorrow?"

Pressing his fingers against his temples, Zuko closed his eyes and tried to will away the dull ache that still lingered after Katara's healing. It refused to budge. ". . . I don't know. We'll just have to see how I'm feeling then, I guess."

"Do you really think it could last that long?"

"I don't know. It only lasted two days when I got back to the palace, but the headaches were never this bad and I was a lot closer to the people there in the past than I ever was with you guys. I don't know how that'll affect things."

Iroh hummed thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "That could be problematic; the technique I wish to teach you and Aang requires peace of mind and focus. I don't want to waste our limited time trying to teach you because of a headache, but . . ."

A heavy sigh brought their attention to Katara, who – crossing her arms and scowling at no one in particular – said, "I can keep an eye on him while you train. If things get bad, I can use my healing to help."

The thought of Katara watching him practice made his heart do summersaults and his intestines tie themselves in intricate knots. What if her burned her again? Not only would it kill any chance at forgiveness (she was mad enough already), but it would result in at least half the group being out for his head.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Jet said, seeming to read his mind. When Katara turned to him, hands on hips and eyebrows raised, he added, "It's two firebenders against you. They could catch you by surprise."

"I'll keep my guard up," she said, tone full of ice.

Observing the less-than-blissful couple, Zuko fought off the tiniest of grins. Maybe things weren't _all_ bad . . .

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for the supreme lateness. Didn't have enough computer time last weekend. xP I made this update extra-long, though, so hopefully that makes up for things. _

_School is slightly ridiculous but managaeable. I may or may not have to sacrifice some of my freetime to do volunteer work for French class, though. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	22. Chapter 22

"You're sure you're feeling up to it, nephew?"

"Positive."

"Because we could wait another day – Avatar Aang could practice some other –"

"No, I'm fine." A flash of pain, images dancing past his eyes. "Mostly."

Aang, for his part, was over the moon upon learning he and Zuko were going to be taught what Iroh had described as "a rare technique only a select few firebenders know of".

"So what's this technique called?" he asked, palms rested on his crossed legs, a grin splitting his face. They were in the same courtyard as the day before, the sun as hot and merciless as ever. "The Fire Storm? Magma-Monster?"

"The Dancing Dragon."

A snicker drew their attention behind them, where Jet and Katara sat with their backs against the wall. Judging by the elbow Katara drove into his ribs, Jet had been the only one laughing.

"The . . . Dancing . . . Dragon?" Aang asked, sounding out each word as there was some hidden meaning he had missed. After a moment of fruitless contemplation, he asked, "Am I supposed to dance the Fire Lord into submission?"

With a boisterous belly-laugh, Iroh shook his head and said, "This technique is more about teaching you the origins and nature of firebending than to directly aid you in combat."

"You're gonna fix my bending with a dance?" Zuko asked, tone flat and gaze blank with doubt. He sat on the low stone wall surrounding the water in the fountain, leaning forward with his forearms rested across his knees.

"There is a lesson _in_ the dance."

His expression didn't waver. "Right."

If anything, his nephew's complete lack of enthusiasm only made Iroh's grin broaden. Moving to the center of the courtyard, he beckoned for the boys to follow. "The first step is quite simple. Simply position your arms like so –"

"Can you believe that?" Jet whispered to Katara, lips pulling in a sneer as he leaned in closer to her ear. "Teaching Aang a _dance_. Like that's gonna help against a warlord."

Watching the trio slowly progress through the graceful forms, Katara shrugged, muttering, "We don't know anything about firebending. Maybe this is a traditional exercise."

"Sometimes tradition needs to be abandoned. Like when you're on a serious time crunch."

"Iroh's pretty old. He could just be really old-fashioned."

"And is that gonna help Aang?"

"What are you two whispering abut over there?" Iroh called, snapping them out of their hushed conversation. Judging by his smile and teasing tone, he was sincerely clueless as to what they had been discussing.

"Nothing," Katara said, managing to keep her voice light and calm, a strained but convincing smile stretching her lips. When Iroh seemed satisfied with her response and returned to his lesson, she turned to Jet and hissed, "Iroh is one of the greatest firebenders in the world. I _think_ he knows what he's doing."

"Yeah; sabotage."

With a growl, she folded her arms over her chest and glared purposefully away from him.

If tensions hadn't been thick before, they certainly were now.

XxXx

"I'm bored."

Ty Lee, standing at the opposite end of the ancient wall-to-wall Pai Sho board, looked up at Mai with wide eyes. "Really? You don't think this is fun?"

"It's Pai Sho."

"But it's _giant_!" As if to emphasize her point, she flung both arms out as wide as they would go.

"It's still Pai Sho."

"You're just upset 'cause I'm winning," Ty Lee teased, grinning smugly. When this failed to draw a response from her friend, she asked. "Well, what _do_ you wanna do?"

"Not this," Mai said, nudging one of the giant wooden pieces with her foot.

Ty Lee's grin shifted from smug to sly. "Wanna go watch Zuko practice?"

"No," Mai said. The slight edge in her voice and hesitation before her response did not go unnoticed.

"You totally do!" Ty Lee squealed, hopscotching across the game board toward her. Grabbing her arm, Ty Lee giggled, saying, "C'mon! Let's go watch."

Mai remained rooted in place. "No."

"Aw, come on! Why not?"

"Because Katara will be there," she said, eyes narrowing and turning to one of the outlined squares to her left. "He's already made it pretty clear he prefers her over me."

"We didn't come all this way just for you to give up!"

"It's not giving up," Mai said flatly. "It's being reasonable."

But Ty Lee would hear none of it.

"_You_ like Zuko, and Katara doesn't!" she said, stamping her foot and giving Mai's arm a light tug to stress the point. "Sooner or later he's gonna give up chasing her and start looking at his other options, so you have to let him know you're available!"

Sighing, she turned her expression of practiced blankness on an ornate stone pillar. Somehow, being Zuko's second choice for a girlfriend sounded a lot less appealing than she remembered.

"Come _on_," Ty Lee begged, giving her arm another tug. "What'll it hurt to try?"

Her pride, dignity, and sense of self-worth?

"_Mai_!" Her friend's voice had become whiny and high-pitched. "Please?"

"Alright, fine. As long as you promise never to talk like that again."

Her beaming smile had returned in full force. "Deal!" Another set of giggles erupted from her as she bounced up and down excitedly, squealing, "You will _not_ regret this!"

"Regret what?"

Yelping, Ty Lee dropped Mai's hands as if they had caught fire, whirling around to face the stone archway behind them. There stood Sokka, eyes roaming the large room as he strode forward with casual confidence.

Finally, his eyes landed on her. ""Hey, uh . . . Tyra, right?"

"Sure!" she said, grinning and giggling and batting her eyelashes.

Mai made a sound that could've been a groan, half rolling her eyes. Without another word, she strode past the pair and out of the room.

Oblivious to her leave, Sokka titled his head and squinted, studying Ty Lee (or Tyra, in his mind) for a moment. Finally, drawing a circle in the air as he pointed at her, he said, "You look different than I remember."

Crossing one foot over the other, she twirled a strand of hair – the shortness still seeming alien – around her finger. Unlike Mai, who had reverted back to her old hair style (much to Ty Lee's dismay; how was Zuko supposed to be smitten by her ravishing new look if she _didn't have a new look_?), Ty Lee had been forced to deal with her change as being much more permanent.

But hey – if it helped her catch cute Mr. Ponytail's eye, it was well worth it.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah," he murmured, a dreamy smile finding his lips, gaze drifting somewhere passed her shoulder. "It reminds me of this girl I know. Suki? I don't think you've met her, but she's _amazing_."

At the mention of another girl, Ty Lee's metaphorical love-boat seemed to take a nosedive.

Was _everyone_ in the temple doomed to romantic failure?

XxXx

Breathe in. Concentrate on the sun warming the earth. Breathe out. Fell the energy at his core. Breathe in. Focus on the drive fuelling his bending. Breathe out. Combine it all together and –

A burst of flame exploded from Aang's fist, the roar and heat as alive as any dragon he had faced one hundred years ago.

With a shout and an airbender-assisted leap of victory, he yelled, "Katara! Katara! Did you see that?"

"Yeah. It was great."

Only, Katara wasn't looking anywhere near him; she was glaring at Zuko, who had experienced a bad flare up of his headache and knelt on the ground in front of her. Gentle, glowing water was pressed to both sides of his head, easing the migraine that plagued him. For whatever reason, having to heal him put Katara in a foul mood, making her usually angelic smile twist into a terrifying scowl.

Maybe she just needed a distraction – something to take her mind off whatever was bothering her and cheer her up.

"You're not even looking. Here, I'll do it again so you can –"

An uncharacteristically impatient sigh cut him off. "Sorry, Aang, but I'm a _bit_ busy right now. Can you show me some other time?"

His shoulders sagged. All the excitement had been about showing her his _first_ successful (according to Iroh) production of fire. Nevertheless, he nodded, deciding she would be just as proud when she saw him create his hundredth flame.

"Hey, forget about her," Jet said, standing with his back leaned against the wall a few feet away from the entrance to the temple. Though he was addressing Aang, his glare was fixated on Zuko and Katara (mostly Zuko). "Not your fault she's got a stick up her ass today."

The smirk that followed was quickly smacked off with a waterwhip.

"Now, now," Iroh scolded, sending both of them a disapproving glance. "Arguing isn't going to help Avatar Aang or my poor nephew concentrate. If you can't behave yourselves, kindly leave."

Thawing out the ice that had formed on the sides of Zuko's head during her moment of outrage, Katara said, "_I_ have to help Zuko, so I guess that means you'll have to find someone else to harass, Jet."

The harsh gazes of Aang and Iroh seemed to make him think twice about arguing. With a grumble, Jet stalked back inside the temple –

– And almost ran into Mai.

"Watch it!" he snapped, jumping a step back.

The girl's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. "You're the one who was looking at the ground."

Then she made to step around him and out into the sunny courtyard. He grabbed her arm as she passed, however, tight grip preventing her from going any further.

Glancing from his hand on her wrist up to his face, her expression shifted to something that could've been the beginnings of a glare. "What?"

"There's more than enough firebenders hanging around Aang already. I'm not letting anymore gang up on him."

"I'm not a bender."

His scowl deepened. "You're still Fire Nation!"

Meeting his glower with a blank gaze for a silent moment, she sighed and said, "Fine. But watching them practice is the only interesting thing in this entire temple. Giant Pai Sho is _so_ dull."

"Whatever," he said as he turned to continue down the corridor, dragging Mai with him. "You're still not going anywhere near Aang."

"Where exactly am I going?"

Letting his eyes examine the intricate stonework of the decorating the walls as they walked, Jet wracked his brain for an answer. What could he get her to do that would make certain she wouldn't go after Aang or endanger anyone? It had to be something time consuming without being mind-numbingly boring.

When he came up blank, he spared her a glance long enough to ask, "Do you have any . . . hobbies or something?"

"No."

He had to do a double-take. _None_? What kind of person had no interests? Nothing to pass the time? There had to be something . . .

"What about that girl you're always with?" he asked, remembering how inseparable they had seemed during their first week in the temple. "Where's she?"

"Nowhere I want to be," Mai said in a tone that suggested disgust.

"Well, what do you usually do together?"

There was a distinct moment of hesitation before she said, "Just talk."

He stopped, dropping her arm as he turned to face her, his naturally suspicious nature piqued. "About what?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," she said, crossing her arms. "Or what it has to do with you getting rid of me."

He scowled, but decided to let the argument drop. It was one thing if Mai and Ty Lee discussed ways to assassinate Aang; what he had to focus on was keeping her _away_ from him to ensure that could never happen.

"So . . . You have _no_ hobbies?" he asked. "Nothing you do besides talking to Ty Lee?"

"No," she deadpanned, unflinching under his stare (a mix of mistrust and disbelief). "Do you?"

"Of course I do!" he said.

Or, at least that's what he _wanted_ to say. But Jet wasn't one to make statements without evidence to back them up – a leader had to be persuasive, after all – so he found himself uncharacteristically mute when his mind came up blank.

What _were_ his hobbies? Leading rebels? Fighting against the Fire Nation? Being Katara's boyfriend? Or, more recently, getting into heated arguments with her (and everyone else)?

Was that really it? Did he really have no identity other than Jet-the-rebel-leader? It seemed so bizarre; he had always considered himself to be well-rounded and versatile. And yet there was no other dimension to his identity. He wasn't Jet-the-potter/leader or Jet-the-scholar/leader or anything of that sort. He was just . . . Jet-the-leader.

Realizing he had none was a startling blow to his ego. Rather than admitting this at face value, however, Jet tried to stand taller and puff out his chest as he said, "I have a lot of other responsibilities, so I don't really have time for that sort of thing."

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Mai countered his excuse with one of her own, saying, "Maybe I just have no interest in hobbies."

"It's unnatural to be so passionless." What were _his_ passions, aside from taking down the Fire Nation?

The comment rolled off her like water on a turtle-duck's feathers. "You aren't even that busy."

He choked on a half-formed protest, realizing that – once again – _she was right_. He had no duties in the temple – he didn't teach Aang or cook or clean or lead rebel attacks on the nearby Fire Nation village (Katara wouldn't let him). The only thing he did was watch their newest allies for signs of trouble.

Which, really, he didn't even need to do; Toph could do a far better job of that than anyone else.

A sigh snapped him out of his thoughts. Mai was breezing past him down the hall, saying something about finding an Air nomad statue to throw knives at.

Watching her leave, Jet found himself unable to move or speak, his every nerve frozen by one single, horrifying thought: he was s single titled, one angled person.

He was _boring_.

* * *

Author's Notes: _I apologize for the lameness of this chapter. I'm having trouble figuring out how to get this to keep moving in the direction I want it to, and I seem to have a bit of writer's block lately. xP I'm gonna do my best to keep down on the filler and get the story moving forward ASAP._

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon; which I am in no way associated with. **


	23. Chapter 23

The red, blistered skin began to lighten, swelling decreasing as the damaged flesh began to repair itself. The glow of Katara's water highlighted each shifting groove, and she concentrated hard on keeping her eyes locked on his burned arm – fresh, fixable – instead of his burned face – old, permanent.

The daylight had begun to fade, allowing the half-moon to come into view. Zuko's headaches had begun subsiding sometime after lunch and – with much effort and concentration and a level of patience Katara didn't know he possessed – he had regained his firebending.

Ten minutes after a test run of his bending to make sure everything was in working order, he and Aang had gotten into a heated sparring match.

Aang had won.

"You're lucky Jet wasn't watching," she commented, letting her water-coated hands glide up his arm to a minor burn on his shoulder.

"Yeah," Zuko grunted, caught between a wince and a grin. "I'd be in a lot worse shape."

"Well, there's that," she said, unable to restrain her smile. "I was more concerned with the endless teasing you'd suffer for losing to your student."

He cheeks reddened and he scowled, muttering, "Beginner's luck."

Despite her best efforts, Katara found herself smiling at his reaction, the urge to laugh overwhelming. Which, in turn, made her hate him (and herself) more – how could she feel the slightest bit of happiness where he was concerned? Guys who kidnapped girls and hunted the world's last hope for peace were something to be angry toward, with no relief from the harsh consequences of their actions even _after_ their supposed reform!

"You're smiling," he commented, his own lips tugging upward.

Damn it. She had forgotten to stop doing that.

"Only because the idea of Jet harassing you is very satisfying," she covered smoothly, pulling her hands away from his formerly-injured arm to assess her work.

"I thought you were annoyed by that."

'_He notices too much_,' she thought, though an excuse came to mind soon enough. "He was distracting Aang from his training."

"Not that he needed much help," Zuko grumbled, testing his freshly healed arm. Rotating his shoulder and flexing his fingers, he asked, "Has he always been that fast?"

The anger that was appropriate to his presence returned, making Katara's ears burn and her body feel alive with white-hot energy. Glaring, she snapped, "He kind of has to, since your father's going to finish conquering the world in a few months."

"You can't blame me for that," he said, his own gaze hardening. "What Fire Lord Ozai and the rest of my country does is out of my control."

"Well," she said in an acidic tone, returning her water to its flask and rising to her feet, "you certainly never did anything to try stopping him."

His muscles tensed, visible due to the absence of a shirt (it was impossible to heal someone properly through fabric). Clenching his jaw shut and fisting his hands, he seemed to have something to say but no desire to voice it.

Then, with a heavy sigh, his body relaxed, only the muscles in his jaw remaining tight. "You're right. I didn't question my nation's actions enough. I'm sorry."

Katara stared at him with uncertain, wary eyes. This was Z_uko_ she was talking to, after all – apologies weren't exactly something he handed out every day. It had to be a lie, part of some elaborate scheme.

But Zuko did nothing else; he didn't follow with a sarcastic comment to nullify the sincerity, didn't start asking for favours . . . He just grabbed his shirt from where it lay beside him, pulling it on over his head as he got to his feet.

"You're up to something," she blurted, thoughts tumbling out before she had time to consider the repercussions.

Another sigh as his gaze flitted skyward. "I've already told you – I have no intentions to hurt Aang or any of your friends. I'm here to _help_."

"I still don't trust you," she grumbled, arms crossing. "And I don't know what you're trying to do, but . . . Whatever it is, I won't fall for it!" Taking a step forward, she leaned closer, eyes narrowed and voice lowered menacingly. "And if you _do_ hurt Aang or anyone I care about? I'll make sure you never lie again."

Without another word, she turned on her heal and stormed out of the room, leaving him to absorb her threat.

XxXx

"Am I boring?"

Startled, Katara looked up from the beetle-rat she had been prodding (Air Temple creatures were so bizarre) over to Jet. He sat a few feet away, left leg tucked under the opposite upright knee which he lazily draped his right arm over. He had been acting strange the past few days, his usual drive oddly diminished, as was his controlling and often paranoid behaviour.

"No. What makes you think that?"

Staring up at the star-speckled sky with a distant expression, he shrugged. "I've just been thinking lately. I noticed I don't really do a whole lot."

"Sure you do!"

What was happening to him? Since when did Jet – over-confident and filled to the brim with the headstrong and self-assured qualities of a leader – ever doubt himself?

Meeting her gaze with surprising intensity (was this really upsetting him that much?) he said, "Name one thing. One thing I do on a regular basis."

"Well, you hara-"

"_Besides_ protecting us all from those Fire Nation assholes."

"You –" Katara hesitated, wracking her brain for something. Jet had always seemed so busy to her before, like there was always something of critical importance occupying his mind. But now that she actually thought about it, the Fire Nation really _was_ his only frequent concern. "You . . . clean your swords."

Letting himself fall backwards onto his elbows, he glared up at the sky, growling, "See? I don't do anything; I'm boring."

"You're not _boring_," she argued, scooting closer. "Just . . . Single-minded. Focused. It's not a bad thing – I can think of plenty of people who could use a little more focus."

It was true. If Aang had half as much drive and concentration as Jet, he would be a lot farther ahead in his training. Unfortunately for them (and the rest of the world), he was more content to ditch his training for games of giant Pai Sho and flights through the canyon.

Jet, however, wasn't willing to see the bright side of the situation.

"You've all got other things to focus on besides the war," he went on. "Aang has all his games and airbender stuff, Sokka has his jokes and inventing, Toph has her gambling – "

"She's _still_ doing that?"

"– You have your cooking and cleaning –"

"_Not_ exactly a pass time I chose," she grumbled, crossing her arms and scowling.

"Not the point. What I mean is; everyone's got something else to do but me."

Katara paused, searching for something to say that would reassure him. Instead of words of wisdom coming to mind, however, she found herself wondering –

"What gave you the idea that you're boring, anyway?"

"A conversation I had a while ago."

"With who?"

For a moment, he didn't answer, jaw locked as he stared up at the glimmering stars. Then he turned away, muttering something.

Katara leaned closer, asking, "Who?"

"Mai," he snapped, turning back toward her with a scowl.

_Mai_? _Mai_, the daughter of a Fire Nation general and former ally of Azula, not to mention the most boring person they had ever met? He was listening to _Mai_?

"It's not funny!"

Biting back another snort of laughter, Katara shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, it's just . . . Why do you care what _she_ thinks?"

"Because. If someone as dull as her thinks I'm boring, then there's gotta be something wrong with me."

"Or maybe she has no idea what she's talking about," Katara said, sliding even closer to wrap her arm around him and give his shoulder a comforting squeeze."Don't listen to a word she says. You're _not_ boring."

Jet said nothing, just nodded and stared down at his hands folded in his lap with an expression of deep thought. Studying him, Katara couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside his head – how could someone as confident and self-assured as him be beaten down so badly by the words of a girl who had never before showed any sort of preferences or opinions? There had to be more to it than he was saying, another issue that made Mai's judgement seem a lot more important than it was.

Not that he would ever talk to her (or anyone else, for that matter) about it. He was too prideful to seek help or advice – which, really, was what made the fact that they were even having this conversation a miracle. Prodding any deeper would probably only push him to close off more.

But she wouldn't give up. Not completely. Given time, she could coax the answers out of him slowly but surely.

For the moment, however, she would leave him to his thoughts.

Leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek, Katara smiled and whispered, "I'm gonna get to bed. You should, too."

Glancing at her, his familiar smirk returned. "What? Go to bed with you?"

She rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly on the arm, but couldn't quell her smile or her blush. Getting to her feet, she dusted herself off and said, "Just get some rest. I might decide doing a few chores tomorrow will make you more useful."

"Very funny," he said as she turned to walk away. A pause. "You _are_ kidding, right?"

"Maybe," she called teasingly over her shoulder. "You'll have to wait until morning to find out."

XxXx

"What'd that statue ever do to you?"

Pausing with her arm raised in preparation to throw, Mai glanced over her shoulder at Toph. Barefoot like always, she padded across the open-air courtyard (on the opposite side of the temple from where Zuko trained), eyes never moving toward the knife-strewn ground or statue when she whistled and said, "That's a lotta blades."

"What do you want?" Mai asked, attention returning to her target. Swinging her arm, she released the knife. It sailed forward in a flawless line, hit the eye of the statue, bounced off, and landed on the ground.

"Nothing."

"I find that doubtful."

"No, really." Toph paused to stomp a stone seat out of the ground. "I don't want anything from you. Because then I can prove to Jet that you're not up to anything and he's just crazy."

She stared at the younger girl for a moment. Then, turning back to the statue and taking aim, she said, "Right. Now you know what I'm doing. Go away."

"Nah," she said with a smirk, crossing her arms and plopping down in her makeshift chair. "I think I'll keep an eye on you anyway."

Thanks to her keen senses, Toph was fully aware of Mai's spike in blood pressure and the tensing of her muscles. Both were slight, but they proved one thing; Miss Misery was annoyed.

The smirk grew. Maybe she could make things a little more interesting for her.

With a barely noticeable intake of breath, Mai reassessed her aim, then swung her arm forward, releasing the knife –

– And completely missing.

But only because the statue had moved.

"I thought you might prefer a moving target," Toph explained, a devilish grin gracing her lips. "A lot less _boring_, don't you think?"

Mai hardly flinched. "Either go away or shut up."

"That's doable," Toph said, mimicking a zipping motion across her lips. With a sharp, sideways elbowing motion, the statue returned to its proper position, chiselled features cracked and broken (as shown by a few places distinctly lacking in vibrations).

Twinkle Toes was going to be upset, wasn't he? Well, that was a problem to deal with later; she was too busy playing with Mai to care at that point.

This time she waited, letting Mai hit the target with her usual flawless accuracy a few times, chipping away more of the supposedly immortalized face. Then, when she was taking aim and completely unsuspecting, Toph slid the statue away again.

"I thought I told you –"

"To keep quiet," Toph finished for her, putting on her most innocent expression. "And I've been like a spider-mouse for _hours_."

"Ten minutes."

"Close enough."

The older girl stared at her, reaction hard to gauge even with Toph's "under-the-skin" senses. Finally, after a moment of silence (_annoyed_ silence, Toph was happy to note), Mai said, "You're a lot like Azula."

The universe seemed to tremor. _Azula_? She was like _Azula_? Crazy, fire-shooting, world-conquering Azula? And of all the people to make the comparison . . .

An ear-splitting shriek snapped her out of her thoughts.

Before Toph could even think about getting battle-ready, someone was slamming into Mai, arms wrapped around her throat as they giggled maniacally.

"You'll never guess what happened!"

Sensing only co-operation would free her from her friend's death-grip, Mai choked, "What?"

As expected, Ty Lee detached herself. The fact that it was so she could squeal and skip in circles didn't really improve the situation, however.

"Okay, so I was talking to Sokka, right?" Ty Lee started, voice tight with the strain of containing her giggles. "Well, he complimented my hair, but then he started talking about how pretty this _other_ girl was and I got totally bummed out and started thinking this temple was cursed 'cause everyone's love-life completely sucks – do you think it's because this place used to be filled with nuns and their spirits are trying to keep us, like, pure? I don't see any auras but –"

"Could you get to the point?" Mai cut in, jaw muscles tensing with impatience.

"Right. So, anyway, I was all bummed out and stuff, but then he started talking about my fighting and saying I'm really strong and . . . and . . . _Guess what happened_!"

"Zuko killed him with a stray fireblast."

"No, even better!" Ty Lee squealed, proving she wasn't paying an ounce of attention to their guesses. "He invited me to dinner."

This revelation was followed by another deafening shriek as she hopped from one foot to the other.

"You would've had dinner with him anyway," Mai pointed out, watching her friend with the blankest expression she could muster. No amount of emotional repression could completely hide her annoyance at Ty Lee's antics.

"Really?" Ty Lee gasped, bouncing some more. "Did you ask him to ask me out?" Another gasp. "That's _so_ sweet!"

"No."

"I think what Miss Misery is trying to say," Toph said, opting to spare Mai from the tedious task of explaining, "is that we all live together, so we all eat together anyway."

"But he said we could talk more over supper – that means it's special, right?"

"'Fraid not."

With a moan of defeat, Ty Lee collapsed onto her knees, whole body seeming to deflate with disappointment. Head hung and lips pouting, she sniffed, "But he said he liked my hair."

"Sokka's totally clueless," Toph said, leaning back in her stone chair. It took effort to keep her voice even, her insides squirming and blood boiling the same way they had when Aang had stolen her Earth Rumble title. As she listened to the other girl sniffle while her body pulsed with the tell-tale signs of heartbreak, she decided to drive the final nail in the coffin. "If I were you, I'd just give up on him now. Not like things'll ever go anywhere between you two."

There was a jolt of something from Mai's direction – anger, she suspected – and a noise from Ty Lee not unlike a koala-dog being kicked.

"Well," Toph said, rising from her seat after enduring a minute of her work's aftermath (Ty Lee was a loud crier). "I'm outta here. Jet's due for another harassment session."

Then she strolled down one of the breezeways, not sparing either teen an apology or word of condolence.

Something told her the airbender statue was about to take all the heat for her, anyway.

* * *

Author's Notes: _It's finally done! =D A long wait, I know, but I think I'm mostly back on track, so updates should be more consistent from now on. _

_Tell me wahat you think - any and all critiques are much appreciated. =D_

**Disclaimer: 'Avatar: The Last Airbender' and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	24. Chapter 24

For Zuko, the next week was filled with caution and fear.

Caution around Katara, who had made a not-so-subtle threat to end his life; caution around Jet, who had vowed to end _every_ firebender's life; caution around Sokka, who just really didn't like him, especially since he had been informed of his feelings for Katara (the consequential kidnapping didn't help); caution around Mai, who he knew liked him, but was unreadable and therefore a great source of nervousness.

And, well, having all that to be wary of warranted a little fear. One misstep. . .

"Landmine!"

The earth beneath his feet exploded, throwing him several meters. He landed hard on his back, hitting his head (there was a flash – _alone in a village, protecting someone; his swords weren't enough_ –). Propping himself up on his elbows, Zuko grimaced and groaned, "I don't want to play this game anymore."

"It's not a game," Toph said, hands on hips. "'Landmine, Rock-alanche, Quicksand' is a very effective training exercise. It's great for enhancing your earthbending senses."

"But I'm _not an earthbender_!"

She smirked. "Exactly."

With another groan, he flopped back on the ground. "Just kill me."

Aang – cheating by gliding over the ground on his air-scooter – dismounted beside Zuko and crouched to examine his worn out form. "Does that mean you forfeit, too, Sifu Hotman?"

The "game", played in the spacious field above the Air Temple so as to avoid further destruction of the ancient structure, had started out with six players: Zuko, Aang, Katara, Sokka, Jet, and Ty Lee. Toph coordinated all the obstacles and acted as referee, Iroh claimed he was too old to keep up with them (which Zuko knew was total bull-rooster manure – his uncle was more agile and skilled than anyone half his age), and Mai just flat-out refused to participate.

So far, everyone but Aang and Zuko had dropped out. Zuko stayed because he was a masochist (well, actually, it was mostly just his inability to quit. He _had_ to go down fighting), and Aang stayed because his ability to cheat with airbending and actually _sense_ the attacks coming with earthbending made the game relatively painless for him.

"How many factures am I gonna have to heal tonight?" Katara grumbled, massaging her own aching shoulder. She had been one of the last to drop out, showing her legendary stubbornness and determination.

Getting to his feet with much wincing and stifled grunts, Zuko – in a desperate attempt to maintain his pride – shrugged away the pain and said, "I'll be fine. Just a couple bruises."

She rolled her eyes in a "Yeah, right" gesture, but did nothing else to dispute his response.

Well, he was definitely going to be in pain for the next few days, then.

Oblivious to the silent war going on between his two teachers, Aang glided over to Katara, beaming as he said, "I got this wicked gash on my arm you could heal."

The "wicked gash" was actually a relatively minor scrape he had suffered when the shockwave of an earthbending landmine threw him off his air-scooter. It was probably the worst of his few injuries.

And, judging by his expression when Katara wrapped his arm in a sleeve of water, it was all just an excuse to get close to her.

A flare of jealousy sent spots dancing across Zuko's vision. Why did he have to play the tough guy?

As the others gathered around Katara to await their own healing, Zuko shuffled over to where Appa lay by the canyon's edge, ready to take them all back down when needed. Upon seeing him, the bison greeted Zuko with a groan and an inescapable, slobbery kiss.

"Nice to see you, too," Zuko grumbled, wiping his face with his sleeve. Well, on the bright side, he could count Appa as one more Air Temple resident who _didn't_ hate him.

Too bad Appa's opinion didn't hold much weight with the others.

"Hey."

Turning, he saw Mai approaching him from the playing field (disinterest in participating didn't mean disinterest in watching, apparently), her gaze drifting over all his visible injuries before landing on his face. "Shouldn't you get fixed up?"

Shrugging, he turned back to Appa, grabbing one horn with both hands and hoisting himself up onto the creature's head. "I'll be fine."

Neither of them spoke as he moved from the bison's head to its flank, the guaranteed farthest spot from Aang and therefore the one least likely to earn judgment. Once settled in the saddle, Zuko took notice of the thick silence that had descended upon them. A quick glance told him Mai had taken to staring at Appa's numerous legs, an expression of clear boredom on her face.

Did she expect him to have a conversation pre-readied?

So," he started, fiddling with his bootstrap as he wracked his brain for a topic. "Some game, huh?"

She shrugged, expression unwavering.

"Uh . . . Aang had . . . quite the unfair advantage."

She offered something between a nod and a shrug.

"Don't you think – "

"If you'd rather be talking to Katara than why don't you just go do it?" Mai cut in, a dangerous edge in her voice. The change in her face was slight but noticeable nonetheless – a frown, her jaw squared and eyes narrowed.

For a moment, Zuko could only process shock. _Mai_ was getting angry. Mai was getting _angry_ . . . at him?

Mai was _angry at him_?

"What's your _problem_?" he snapped, surprise making way for annoyance, thoughts tumbling out of his mouth as they formed. "What have I ever done to _you_?"

Her gaze finally slid up to meet his. "How about ignore me for as long as I've known you?"

"I don't ignore you! You give me no reason to pay attention!"

Hurt flickered across her face faster than a blink. Then her expression reverted back to its usual blankness, controlled and unreadable.

But Zuko wasn't finished.

"You can't deny it," he continued, speaking down on her from where he sat on Appa. "You don't _do_ anything – you're quiet and proper and _bored_. Why should I focus on someone who never does anything worthy of my attention – of _anyone's_ attention?"

For a moment, Mai just stood there, silent, gaze turned to the grass at her feet. Her fingers curled into loose fists, relaxing an instant later. Taking a breath, she lifted her head to look at him, opening her mouth to speak –

"What's going on here?"

Only to be interrupted by Jet.

"I heard you guys shouting," he said as he crossed the grassy field, suspicious gaze focused on Zuko. "Figured I should see what's up."

Folding his arms over his chest, Zuko leaned back in Appa's saddle and glared down at the canyon below. "It's nothing."

"Didn't _sound_ like nothing."

"Well it was."

Eyebrow rising in a dubious expression, Jet shifted his weight to one foot, placing on hand on his hip. "You seriously expect me to believe you?"

"What reason would I have to lie to you?"

"How about –"

"We were just arguing."

Both boys' gazes turned to Mai, who was staring off to where the others were clustered around Katara with a bored expression. Gaze flickering over to them briefly, she lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "No big deal."

Eyes in slits, Jet glared at Zuko for a moment, making the other boy's chest tighten. Even if he had nothing to be nervous of – it _had_ just been a stupid fight, after all – Zuko still wasn't looking forward to Jet's prying questions and increased suspicion. He was already walking on eggshells.

As he continued to bore a hole in Zuko's skull with his glower, Katara approached from the field along with the others, calling, "Hey! We heard shouting; everything okay?"

There was a pause before anyone answered, time enough for Katara to arrive at Jet's side and glance between the trio curiously. Finally, lips drawn down in a frown, Jet growled, "Nothing, apparently."

Her gaze darted from Zuko to Jet, seeming to pick up on the increased tension between them. "Are you sure?"

"It's nothing," Mai repeated, studying her nails with a blank expression, the picture of apathy. Zuko, however, could hear the faintest trace of resentment in her tone, something he presumed was directed toward Katara's presence.

"Feels true to me," Toph said. With a stomp of her foot, she created a set of earthen steps rising up to Appa's back, saying as she climbed them, "Dunno about you guys, but I'm hungry. Let's get home so Sugar Queen can whip up some lunch."

While the two girls bickered about fair division of chores and "why do _I_ always have to cook?" (apparently, anyone else would blow up the temple's kitchen), Zuko watched as Mai hoisted herself up onto the bison, sitting as far from him as possible and avoiding all eye-contact.

XxXx

"Sokka, hey! Don't - aah! Katara, make Sokka stop trying to break my staff!"

"I'm not _breaking_ it; I'm _improving_ it!"

"It's not meant to be a fishing rod or a spear! It's a delicate, hand-crafted instrument that is very dear to me and my people!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Twinkle Toes. Hey, Snoozles, le'me see it. I need a nut cracker."

"Toph, don't - aah! Katara! Make Sokka and Toph stop using my staff for food!"

Heaving a slow, heavy sigh, Katara massaged her temples. Why was _she_ always the go-to person? Iroh was at _least_ three times her age – surely he had better wisdom to offer.

There was more shouting as Toph cracked the monastery's ancient stonework trying to break open a walnut with Aang's staff.

Well, _someone_ would have to sort things out.

"Toph, you don't need Aang's staff to break nuts. Use your bending next time. Sokka, there are plenty of other sticks around that you can use for a fishing rod. Aang, you're the master of all four elements; stand-up for yourself next time."

All three stopped their arguing, standing still as statues (Sokka holding the staff over his head, Aang and Toph reaching for it on their tip-toes). For a few moments, her friends just stared at her, eyes wide.

"Whoa, Sugar Queen," Toph said after letting out a long, low whistle. "Way to pop your top."

"Y-yeah," Aang stammered, shrinking back. "You don't need to shout."

Shout? Had she been shouting?

"Well . . . You guys wouldn't have heard me otherwise!" she covered, turning back to the massive pot of rice she had been tending to. It had started to boil over, though she couldn't tell it was because of her.

Lately, she had been finding herself more stressed and short-tempered that usual. And, really, who could blame her? Their manageable little group of five had nearly doubled in size, and the newest additions weren't exactly trust worthy – especially not so close to Aang. Was it so unreasonable for her to be a little flustered?

Then there was Jet with his obsessive grudge and all the arguing and wanting Zuko dead and – why did she even _care_?

The pot hissed and spattered, boiling over once more.

Okay, it was definitely her fault that time.

"Guys," she said, quickly working to tame the bubbling mess, "can you serve yourselves? I think I need to get some air."

"Sure, yeah," Sokka said, moving closer to take a whiff of the food, practically salivating. "No prob–"

"No double-serving yourself, though."

His expression fell as he let out a low whine. "Aw, c'mon! Just this once?"

Aang was soon at her side as well, a look of concern crossing his face as he asked, "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, that's –"

"I could try teaching you how to make an air-scooter with waterbending. That might cheer you up. Or we could go to the all-day-echo chamber and –"

"No," Katara cut in, offering a patient but strained smile. "I think I'd prefer some alone time."

His shoulders sagged, expression crumbling. "Okay."

Before anyone could question her further (Toph especially. She was in no mood to be interrogated), Katara hurried out of the kitchen and down the breezeway toward one of the courtyards, intent on some practice by the fountain. That was all she needed; some deep breathing and calm movements to sort out her thoughts. Then things could go back to normal and she could be patient and tolerant and less snappish.

'_Not that it was_ my _fault_,' she thought as she stalked through the breezeway. It had been Sokka and Aang and Toph yelling at each other like a bunch of five year olds. _Any_one would lose their cool listening to that all afternoon. Even Iroh, master of tea and patience and dealing with Zuko, would probably feel like shouting.

Maybe she needed to talk to him. He always had good advice – surely he could offer some insight on her situation. Especially where his nephew was concerned.

It just didn't make any sense! Zuko was a jerk, an asshole, a kidnapper; she should be joining in on Jet's suspicions and schemes for getting him kicked out of the group, not . . . _criticizing_ them! Why couldn't she just hate Zuko and be done with it?

It was all because of that stupid baby picture. And hearing about his mother and memories. And seeing him brainwashed. And knowing him as the Blue Spirit. And –

No. None of that excused anything. He was bad person who did bad things, no matter what slivers of vulnerability and kindness she had seen in him. He wasn't to be forgiven, wasn't to be trusted, wasn't to be considered anything but a kidnapper and a hope-killer.

"Can I ask why you're walking in circles?"

He _was_, however, standing ten feet away.

* * *

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	25. Chapter 25

"I'm just . . . thinking," Katara said lamely, halting her pacing and turning to face him, posture slightly defensive. She hadn't even realized she had arrived at the fountain, let alone begun circling it.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Zuko stared somewhere past her left elbow, seeming uncertain of what to do. With a shrug, he opened and closed his mouth soundlessly a few times before finally finding the words to ask, "Wh-what's, uh . . . On your mind?"

Her eyes narrowed in a reflexive scowl. "None of your business!"

She moved to dart past him, but he feigned left, blocking her path. Hands held up (palms out) in a sign of surrender, he said, "Look, I know you're upset – and you have every right to be – and I know it won't fix anything, but . . ." he hesitated, took a breath, and ploughed forward, "I'm sorry. For everything. And I wanna make it up to you – show you I'm different now. Is there . . . _anything_ I can help with?"

Heat coursed through her veins, making her skin burn with anger. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he think _she_ was? Did she seem like someone who would be all smiles and sunshine after what he had done? Did he think she _should_ be so quick to forgive?

Well, he was sorely mistaken! She knew his games, and she wasn't about to fall for his "I'm-so-nervous-and-shy-please-don't-hate-me" act!

"You can get out of my way," Katara snarled, shoving past him. "And make sure the others don't destroy the kitchen."

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite so easy to rid herself of him.

He _followed_ her.

"You're upset about something else, aren't you?" he asked, keeping a fair distance behind her as she stalked down the corridor. "You're usually more patient than this."

"Well maybe I'm _tired_ of being patient!" she snapped, whirling around to face him. "Maybe I don't wanna smile and beat around the bush and let people down gently!"

Shouting, however, proved ineffective against Zuko's iron will.

"_Some_thing's bothering you," he insisted. "You might hate me, but you still know how to act civil."

"Well," she huffed, crossing her arms, "even if something _was_ bothering me, I wouldn't tell _you_ about it."

He shrugged, nodded, looked completely unaffected. "Fair enough."

This wasn't turning out quite the way she had hoped.

He strode closer with a sense of purpose that made her spirits rise, sending her visions of him doing something stupid and her shouting and him yelling back and a fight breaking out, providing some much needed release. This was _Zuko_ she was talking to, after all; he could only stand being pushed around so much before shoving back.

"But I'd still like to help," he said as though there had been no pause in conversation, standing arm's length away (which was closer than he had ever dared under normal circumstances).

"I don't _need_ help." Not from him, anyway.

Inclining his head slightly, he allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips. "You sound like me."

With a snort of disgust, she turned to continue toward . . . Well, she still wasn't sure where she intended to go. Anywhere Zuko wouldn't be.

At least, that was how things worked out in her head. His tight grip on her wrist seemed to indicate otherwise.

"Let me go!"

"Maybe you should talk to my uncle. He's –"

"I don't want to talk to anyone!"

"– great with advice." Zuko's grip tightened as Katara pulled harder, patience seeming to thin. "You have to let _some_one help!"

"I don't _have_ to do anything!" she snapped, pulling against him with all her might. "Now let me go before I make you!"

"Try it."

The words barely left his mouth before a jet of water ploughed into his side.

Winded and wet, he let out a low-throated growl as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, wiping water from his eyes.

_'This is good_,' she thought, positing her hands in a simple waterbending stance and giving him a beckoning stare. _'This is exactly what I need_.'

Climbing to his feet, Zuko inhaled deeply and exhaled steam, the hot air evaporating the water from his clothes. He did this once, twice, three times, all the while clenching his fists and keeping his eyes shut tight. It took a full ten seconds for Katara to realize what he was doing.

He was _calming himself_.

This wasn't how things were supposed to happen! How was she going to fight him if he was going to become all calm and patient and stop having knee-jerk reactions?

Perhaps a little more pushing was in order.

With a graceful upward swing of her arms, she pulled water from the fountain in the courtyard behind Zuko. There wasn't time to blink before it came slamming into his back, knocking him to his hands and knees.

This time, his reaction was much more instantaneous.

Jumping up and forward, he launched a fistful of fire at her, a wordless shout tearing from his throat. The flames were easily met with a wave of water, fizzling to puffs of smoke.

The puddle at Zuko's feet frosted over. The slushy substance then shot up his leg, solidifying completely as it went and locking him in place as he continued throwing a barrage of fireballs. There was barely time for this to register (and indeed it did, if his gasp at the sudden cold was anything to go by) before Katara was darting forward, whole body twisting as she bent more water from the fountain, splitting it into a dozen separate streams. Each coiled around a part of his body – upper torso, lower torso, arms, neck, head – tying him like a hog-lizard and freezing in place.

Despite the adrenaline and anger fuelled circumstances, the action was actually quite soothing. The water was at her command and her command only; whatever she wanted it to do was done, no questions asked. The authority a few simple hand motions held was a comfort.

But not one she could blissfully enjoy. Not when Zuko was melting himself free.

There was no chance to resolidify his entrapment. He was free and darting forward in seconds, aiming low and fast. Punches and kicks and intricate movements created an onslaught of fire she could barely keep up with, forcing her backward and building a wall of smoke. Fatigue found her surprisingly fast – had she really used up that much energy so quickly?

But Zuko showed no signs of tiring, his gaze never leaving her as he attacked with flames that seemed to have a life of their own.

Then her back was against the wall and his hands (palms rough and hot) were pinning her arms to her sides.

"I don't want to hurt you," he hissed, breath short but voice firm. "I'm just trying to help."

"Funny way of helping," she panted, struggling against his grip.

"_You_ attacked _me_."

Well –"

"_What are you doing to my sister_?"

Zuko jumped back as if Katara had caught fire, spinning around to face Sokka. The other boy stood in the breezeway leading to the kitchen, narrow-eyed gaze locked on Zuko.

"I can explain –"

"Right," Sokka scoffed, cutting him off. "I'd _love_ to hear it, just as soon as Toph is here to bust your ass for lying." To Katara, he said, "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," she said, the tiniest knot of guilt forming in her gut. She hadn't intended to cause a scene or bring Zuko anymore trouble than he already had. Beating on him had seemed like punishment enough. "I just –"

"What's wrong?" Aang called, hurrying down the breezeway toward them, Toph following close behind. "We heard shouting and – hey, why's everything all wet?"

"Zuko attacked Katara," Sokka snarled.

Eyes widening, then narrowing to slits, Aang turned to Zuko with clenching fists. "You _what_?"

"No, I . . ." Zuko started, holding his hands up defensively and taking a step backward. But no one seemed interested in listening; everyone began talking at once, shouting accusations and threats, all agreeing on one thing – Zuko would not be let off lightly.

"Guys!" Katara shouted, moving to stand between Zuko and her friends. "Stop! Listen!"

"To what?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "You can't honestly be _defending him_."

"No, I just . . . This is all a misunderstanding," she said, struggling for words and trying to ignore Zuko's gaze boring into the back of her head. At the same time, she shot Toph a look, hoping she would feel her stare and know not to rat her out. "We were just sparring! No big deal. Nothing to worry about."

"Katara," Aang said in a slow, level tone, "I want to be able to trust him, but you don't have to lie for him. I've still got Iroh to teach me if Zuko's causing problems."

"No, really – everything's fine."

Eyeing her for a moment, Aang turned to Toph, asking, "What's her heartbeat say?"

The smirk on Toph's lips was enough to give Katara a heart attack, prompting her to shout a mental prayer to Yue. '_Please, please, _please_ don't let her tell the truth. Make her let me off the hook this one time!_'

"Feels true to me."

If the smirk hadn't sent her into cardiac-arrest, those words certainly did.

Toph was actually letting it go? Was actually letting go of an opportunity to watch her (and, well, probably Zuko) squirm and fumble for an explanation? There had to be some ulterior motive. _Had_ to be. Why else would she be wearing such a devious smirk?

In the meantime, Sokka still seemed determined to prove that looks could kill, his glare never wavering from Zuko even as Toph delivered the mind-boggling verdict. Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he said, "Fine. But I've still got my eye on you!" He pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at Zuko, finishing the threat with a throat slitting gesture.

Gaze softening but still holding a trace of anger and worry, Aang looked between Zuko and Katara, saying, "Alright. But next time, can you give us some warning that you're just sparring?"

"Sure thing," Zuko said while sending Katara a questioning, side-long glance. She stifled a groan; this was going to require some explanation, wasn't it?

"Hey, Sugar Queen," Toph called as the other two left for the kitchen, smirk bigger than ever. "There's something I need to talk to you about. Mind visiting my room before you go to bed?"

"Sure."

Great. Now not only would she have to find a way to explain things to Zuko, she would have to do the same for _Toph_. Which would be a lot trickier, since Toph was bound to push for the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Katara wasn't even sure _she_ fully understood her why she had done it – the act had been a slight bit impulsive. Even as she said the words excusing the whole thing she had imagined what kind of punishment Zuko might endure. Exile from the temple? Doing all the chores for the rest of their stay? Having to remain within ten feet of Jet at all times? There was no denying that she would've liked to see him suffer.

Once the other three had finally left, Katara turned to Zuko. May as well get one explanation out of the way.

"Don't think this means everything's fine between us," she hissed, eyes narrowed as she jabbed him in the chest with her forefinger. "Because it's not, and I would've loved to see what Sokka – not to mention _Jet_ – would've cooked up as punishment."

"So why not let them do it?" he asked quickly, cutting her off her little tirade. His voice was low and calm, gold eyes looking down at her as though staring intently enough would unravel all the answers.

"Because I'm a good person and I can't watch another person take the blame for something I did."

"So you admit you started it?"

Her scowl deepened. "Yes, fine. Not the point. You still deserved it."

"The beating or almost getting blamed for starting it?"

"Both!" she snapped, his teasing beginning to grate on her already-thin nerves. Even more annoying was the fact that he was actually _smiling_. What reason did he have to be happy? Nothing about their current situation was happy!

"Alright," he said, grin lingering as he began to walk away, partially turned toward her as he added, "I'll be sure to watch my step."

Huffing (how could he be so casual and cheerful after what she had just done to him?), Katara turned on her heel and stalked off toward the kitchen.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.


	26. Chapter 26

It was a good day.

Zuko didn't know how or why or what the Fates' intents were by treating him so well, but it was definitely a good day.

For starters, the sky was cloud free. For a firebender, clear blue skies and bright sunshine was like shooting energy straight into their veins; a natural high that could keep them going longer than any regular day.

Plus, Aang had mastered his new technique without complaint, leaving them both with more leisure time than they had bargained for. Time Zuko used to revive any memory of the temple and its residents that had remained dusty and uncertain.

Even more relieving than a day with fewer hours of training, Mai hadn't bothered him once. True, it reminded him of how unnecessarily harsh he had been toward her, but it also avoided any awkward encounter and attempts at polite conversation (as if they weren't stinted and uncomfortable before). Knowing she was likely wasting away the day with Ty Lee – who could undoubtedly find some way to cheer up Mai (as much as one could, at least) – made the guilt a little easier to swallow.

Then there was Katara.

Initially, Zuko had thought she would ruin his day, looking clearly distraught and refusing to talk to him or his uncle or anyone, not to mention the fact that she had _attacked_ him.

But, for whatever reason, she had been equally unwilling to let him take the blame for the fight when Toph, Sokka, and Aang were ready to punish him (likely in a very cruel, painful manner). She thought he deserved all the pain that could be dished out to him, yet she saved him from suffering at the angry hands of her mismatched family.

That had to mean something, right? It was progress.

And, okay, maybe it was a very _miniscule_ something, given everything that had led up to it, but with the way things had been going all day (he hadn't even faced harassment from Jet!), Zuko was willing to be a little optimistic.

"You seem awful cheerful today, nephew," Iroh commented when Zuko joined him in the Air Temple chamber reserved for games of giant Pai Sho.

Smiling, he moved to stand at one end of the enormous board and said, "It's just a really good day. Things are starting to look up."

"No lady troubles?"

He opened his mouth to say, "None at all", but realized that wouldn't be entirely true. Even if things had (in his eyes) improved with Katara, there was no denying they still had issues. Plus, there was the thing with Mai.

Instead, he stared down at the Pai Sho piece he shuffled with his feet, muttering, "Not as many."

"Oh," Iroh sighed, giving him an understanding look. "I'm sure Miss Katara will come around eventually. Just remember; you can't force someone to love you, but you can often teach them to trust you."

"Right. Thanks."

Frowning, Iroh studied Zuko for a moment. "That's not the only thing troubling you, is it, nephew?"

"Well –" Why did it matter? Like he had told Mai, he had no reason to care or pay attention to her. Everything about her was programmed and "perfect" – like a sculpture instead of a person. There was nothing wrong with telling her the truth, and that exact truth meant he should feel no guilt about it.

"Zuko?" Iroh pried, sensing his hesitation.

"Never mind. It's nothing."

"Prince Zuko," he said in a firm, scolding tone, the use of his abandoned title sending simultaneous jolts of longing and distaste through the teen in question. "Have you not learned your lesson about bottling your feelings? It's like making a firecracker inside yourself, forcing so much inside that it becomes completely compacted and the next time it is heated –" he brought his hands together in a thunderous clap, sending sparrow-rats scurrying "– it explodes."

"I know," Zuko said, moving to sit on a stack of giant Pai Sho tiles. "But I'm fine, really."

"You were going to tell me something before. What was it?" When Zuko opened his mouth to refuse, Iroh added, "If it's nothing to be upset over, than it's nothing worth hiding."

Damn it. He had him there.

"I just . . ." he paused, searching for the best way to explain. "I told Mai what I thought of her the other day. _Exactly_ what I thought of her."

Having been subjected to many of Zuko's complaints regarding the girl, Iroh hummed in understanding. "And I suppose you feel guilty for it?"

"No!" His uncle's gaze bore into him. ". . . Kind of. But I shouldn't! Honesty is not something to regret – you used to always tell me that."

"I did," Iroh agreed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Perhaps what you're feeling is not _guilt_ so much as sympathy."

Zuko, who had been frowning down at his shoes, allowed his gaze to drift over to Iroh, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

"Mai has harboured feelings for you for quite some time now, and lately she has been trying to bring your attention to them. And when she does – I am assuming you were so, er, _open_ with her because she was pushing her affections on you – you outright reject her."

"I'm not following," Zuko said, brow furrowing. Though he didn't understand the reason for it, the recount of events made his insides squirm with nauseas guilt.

"Katara has been rather bluntly honest with you lately, if I'm not mistaken."

It took a moment for the connection to click, but when it did, Zuko's intestines twisted themselves into another set of guilty (well, _sympathetic_) knots. But what else could he have done? Lying and pretending to like her certainly wouldn't have fixed anything.

As though reading his thoughts, Iroh said, "I know you cannot change your feelings, and Mai shouldn't expect you to. But perhaps you would feel better if you apologized for your harshness and explained things a bit more gently." He hesitated, seeming to consider saying something else, then added, "It may also do you good to consider Katara's position while doing so."

Zuko bristled.

Was his uncle seriously comparing his efforts to gain Katara's trust to _Mai's_ attempts to make him love her? They were completely different! All he wanted was for Katara to forget the chasing and fighting and kidnapping and other awful things he had done to her, and to accept the fact that he was completely on Aang's side now and wanted nothing to do with her father's war. Mai expected him to look past all her faults and flaws, forget that she had once helped Azula track him (presumably for execution), and abandon his feelings for Katara in favour of her.

"That's completely different," Zuko snapped in response, a familiar scowl returning to his face. "I just want Katara's forgiveness and trust. _Mai_ expects me to completely change how I feel about her."

Opening his mouth to argue, Iroh paused, clenched his jaw shut, and shook his head. Gesturing to the game board at their feet, he said, "Why don't we forget this conversation and have a nice game of Pai Sho?"

Nodding begrudgingly, Zuko got off his seat of tiles, crossing his arms and glaring down at the weathered Pai Sho board.

So much for his fantastic mood.

XxXx

Sitting cross-legged on the dusty ground of one of the Air Temple's abandoned training grounds (as it turned out, the wide open spaces used for airbending was also very good for firebending practice), Katara watched Aang practice one of the many katas he had mastered since Iroh's arrival several weeks prior. He had been begging her to come see his progress just as long, and that morning she finally caved; disappointing him was too painful.

Besides, she needed something to focus on other than her own troubles.

With a final, flourishing blast of fire, Aang turned to face his lone spectator and bowed dramatically. As he straightened back to full height, he said, "That was the Dancing Dragon. It looks a lot better when two people do it, but since Zuko is busy I –"

The rest of his words floated past in a blur, not quite registering with her brain.

Zuko. Zuko, Zuko, Zuko. The arrogant jerk that – three hours ago – had pestered her about her foul mood, expecting some sort of miraculous change of heart. Expecting her to suddenly trust and confide in him – not Jet or Aang or Sokka or Toph. _Him_.

It was almost insulting.

"Hel_lo_?" Aang called, waving a hand in her face and snapping her out of her thoughts. When she blinked up at him in recognition, he dropped his hand and tilted his head, brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, fine, yeah." She managed a smile, pushing her anger at Zuko to the side. "Let's see another one of those firebending forms!"

As he moved into position, another thought struck Katara – what was firebender even _like_? She had always assumed it would be hot and painful and filled with rage, but Aang always looked so calm, so like himself. Back at the palace (had it really been that long since she left?), Iroh had tried to convince Zuko to show her, but . . . Maybe Aang could explain things better. Safer.

"What's it like?" she asked finally. He paused to look over his shoulder at her, a streak of flame fizzling to smoke. "You know; firebending?"

"It's . . ." he hesitated, forming a new ball of flame and cradling it carefully in his hands. Then, smiling, he stretched it out and twirled it around his head like a ribbon, saying, "It's like this heartbeat."

"Heartbeat?" she repeated, quirking an eyebrow. It made it sound so fragile and harmless.

"Yeah, a heartbeat. Iroh says fire is life –" he widened his stance, arms a flurry of sharp motions that made the fire loop and coil "– and that we have to be really careful with it because it still lives and grows after we let go of it. Like Jeong Jeong used to tell me."

"So . . . You're not afraid of it anymore?" she asked, tentative. It was a sensitive subject, what had happened during Aang's first attempt at real firebending. She didn't want to remind of that and risk bringing back that apprehension and fear.

But Aang just grinned, continuing to spin the fire with grace and joy. "No way! Firebending's nothing like how Fire Lord Ozai and his soldiers use it. It's supposed to be all about energy and life."

As Katara processed this new bit of information, she watched him continue through his firebending set. Suddenly, the aggression she had always assumed went with every firebending motion was gone, and she noticed – _really_ noticed – how calm and focused Aang looked, completely at ease with the terrifying element. The flames weaved around him in intricate patterns, harmless and dance-like.

Fire on its own wasn't frightening or evil. Its _masters _were.

Question was, if a master had once been evil, could they become entirely good?

"Aang," she said, pausing to search for the right words. She wanted the question to sound casual and unsuspicious. "So, um, what's Zuko like as a teacher?"

"He's awesome!" Aang gushed, finishing his routine with a flourish. "I thought he'd be really snappy and impatient, but he's not – he really gets it when I have trouble mastering a technique."

Zuko, patient? Katara couldn't help it; she burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," she stammered through her laughter. "I just find it hard to picture Zuko as anything _but_ temperamental."

"It's okay," he said, sinking to sit on the ground across from her, legs folding into a lotus position. "I had trouble believing it at first, too, but I think he's really changed. In a lot of ways." There was a lull of silence, neither of them quite sure of what else to say on the matter. Then, brightening (his back went straight, eyes widening and lips parting in a wide smile), he added, "Maybe you should see for yourself! You can come watch us practice tomorrow!"

"Oh, Aang, I-I dunno . . ."

"C'mon!" he pleaded, lower lip jutting out in a pout, eyes growing wide and sad. "It'll be fun."

Well, how could she say no to a face alike that?

"Oh, _fine_," she sighed. "But just for a little while."

"It'll be great, I promise! Ooh! Maybe you guys can do a combined lesson so I can learn two elements at once! We did that with Toph once, and it was –"

But Katara's attention had already drifted elsewhere, his words fading to background noise. It was only a few hours before bedtime, which meant the time for interrogation at Toph's hands was drawing near.

Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she was anticipating; maybe Toph just wanted one truthful answer and would leave it at that. It wasn't like the fight had been a big deal or anything – he had gotten on her frayed nerves and she had attacked. Defending him from the wrath of her friends was simply a noble and responsible thing to do. Nothing more.

Maybe Toph's questioning would be nothing more than that; a questioning. No prying or interrogation or devious schemes involved.

Right. And maybe Fire Lord Ozai would hand over the throne of they asked really nicely.

* * *

Author's Notes: _I am _so_ sorry! School has eaten my life and prevented my from typing updates. I'm trying my hardest to keep up on this, but school comes first, so . . ._

_Anyway, hopefully this update is enjoyable and worth the wait. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property ogf Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	27. Chapter 27

Night came all too soon, bringing with it a mountain of dinner dishes and chill air, not to mention the dreaded (but unavoidable) chat with Toph. Katara moved through the chores slowly, hoping to delay it as long as possible. Maybe Toph would fall asleep . . .

However, her plan to stay up doing the dishes long after everyone had gone to bed was quickly ruined.

"Hey," Jet greeted, flashing his charming grin as he approached where she knelt in a corner of the kitchen by the wash basin. He was already in the process of rolling up the sleeves to his hated Fire Nation shirt as he asked, "Need some help?"

No. What she needed was a better bailout plan for the Toph-situation. But Katara couldn't tell him that, because that would require _explaining_ the Toph-situation and no amount of lying on Zuko's behalf would save the ex-prince from certain death.

So she simply smiled and said, "Sure."

Once elbow deep in suds and rhythmically washing plates, Jet began talking. Unsurprisingly (and unfortunately) there was more to his offer than a simple desire to help his girlfriend with the unbalanced workload.

"I've been thinking lately," he said, scrubbing at a greasy, food-caked pot; as he set it in the rinse basin Katara tried not to cringe at the visible dirt that remained. She would have to rewash all his dishes later (maybe it would prolong seeing Toph . . .). "About what we talked about the other day."

"You thinking you're boring?"

"Yeah, that – I thought maybe I should take up a hobby."

Scratching at a particularly caked-on bit of food, Katara frowned at the plate in her hand. "You mentioned that before."

"Well, now I know what I'll do," he declared with utmost confidence; he paused for dramatic effect before saying, "I'll teach."

Katara almost dropped the plate she was washing, and not because of the slippery suds covering it. Glancing at him (_teaching_?), she bit back the urge to laugh, not wanting to seem unsupportive.

Apparently, however, her expression gave her away.

"I don't mean like one of those school professors," he explained, setting another not-quite-washed dish in the rinse basin. "I mean what you and Toph do. I've got some valuable skills, and I figure one of you guys probably wants to learn them.

'_But wouldn't that be indirectly preparing us to fight against the Fire Nation_?' was Katara's immediate thought. Instead of voicing it, she just smiled and congratulated him. Whether or not he had found something of interest that was completely disconnected from the war didn't matter; if he had found something that made him feel useful and fulfilled, she didn't want to shoot it down. Having him so depressed before had been just plain _weird_ and definitely not a situation she wanted to deal with again.

Still, it was hard to imagine him as a _teacher_.

"Any idea who you wanna start with?"

A sly grin found his lips. "Yeah; you."

If Katara had been drinking something, she would have choked. As it were, she stared at him in bewilderment, the soapy dishwater frosting around her fingers.

Laughing at her wordless but clear response, Jet said, "You've been busy lately, and I say it's time you and I spent some quality time together."

"And teaching me to swing around a sword is your idea of quality time?"

"Yeah." Then his expression darkened, tone growing more solemn as he added, "Besides, after what happened with Zuko, I think you should learn how to better defend yourself."

She stiffened, barely noticing when the dishwater froze further. He knew? How did he know? Had Aang or Sokka told him? No, wait – Toph. Toph was more likely to spread the story about Zuko "attacking" her (or sparring with her, depending on which version best suited Toph's needs). But why? And more importantly, why wasn't Jet getting ready to behead Zuko in his sleep?

As all this flew through her head in a matter of seconds, Katara blinked at Jet in innocent confusion. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Uh, when he kidnapped you?" Jet offered, raising an eyebrow. "Ty Lee kept your chi blocked? You didn't seriously _forget_ that, did you?"

"Oh!" she cried, the realization genuine (how _had_ she forgotten that?). Forcing a laugh, she refocused her attention on the dishes, scrubbing busily as she babbled her best excuse. "I, uh, guess I must just be over it now, you know? Doesn't bug me. Seems like it happened a million years ago! Or never!"

Finally, when the words tumbling out seem to get more and more desperate, she clamped her mouth shut and said a silent prayer to Yue.

He frowned at her for a moment, making her insides squirm in a different manner than usual. Then, turning to scowl down at the dishes, he said, "I don't trust him. _You_ shouldn't trust him."

Relief flooded through her, the water around her hands losing its chill.

"Hey, Sugar Queen! You gonna tuck me in or what?"

And just like that, the chill was back.

"I, uh . . ." Katara turned toward the kitchen doorway, where Toph stood in a dingy white nightdress (which, despite what the "dress" part might imply, wasn't exactly what Katara would consider feminine). Her waist-length hair was loose and hopelessly tangled, her arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

"Since when do you tuck her in?" Jet asked, brow furrowed as he glanced between the pair. To Toph, he said, "Since when do you _want_ to be tucked in?"

"It's, um," Katara stuttered, searching for a response that would end all further questioning – not to mention prevent the much worse possibility of him wanting to join them. She blurted the first excuse that came to mind. "It's code for girl talk. About girl stuff . . . No boys allowed!"

Then she jumped to her feet, taking quick, long strides toward Toph, who looked more than slightly perplexed. Grabbing her hand and dragging her from the room, Katara paused only to yell "Make sure you really scrub those dishes!" over her shoulder.

Thankfully, "girl talk" seemed to be the perfect deterrent for Jet's curiosity.

"Any reason you felt the need to lie to your snuggle-buddy?" Toph asked once they were out of ear shot, digging in her heels in an effort to force Katara to a slower place. "And what exactly is 'girl talk'?"

"Girl talk is about hair and make-up and boys and . . . stuff you'll learn about when you're older."

"And the first question . . . ?"

Katara sighed. It wasn't that she had any real reason to avoid answering; she was just tired of Toph always knowing every little secret. It made it too easy for her to blackmail and lord things over people (especially where Katara was concerned, it would seem). Not to mention the general unfairness of Toph knowing everything about Katara while Katara knew next to nothing about Toph.

If only the tables could be turned. After all, the younger girl was bound to have _some_ sort of deep, dark secret.

"Hell_o_?" Toph said, stretching out the last syllable. "You still in there Sugar Queen?"

"Oh, um, sorry. I was just thinking."

"About the massive guilt you feel for lying to Queen Bee?" she asked, wrenching her arm free from Katara's grip. They had reached Toph's bedroom at that point, so dragging was no longer necessary.

"I only lied to him so he wouldn't find out about what happened with Zuko today," Katara explained as she eased the door open, its hinges whining in protest. Knowing everyone else was asleep made the hushed noise seem much louder.

Inside, the room was dark, only the dim moonlight filtering in through the window providing any light to see by. Still, it was enough to glimpse the disorder and mess of the room – clothing (well, the only other outfit she owned), decrepit airbender toys, and (oddly) scrolls littered the already-dusty floor. The thin bed sheets were also in disarray, hanging sideways off the bed. A quick scan of the room told Katara there were no candles for light.

Which made sense, what with Toph's blindness, but didn't make things any easier for Katara. Who knew what other mess was lurking in the shadows of that room? She certainly didn't want to find out.

"Are you gonna come in and tell me a bed time story or what?" Toph asked impatiently, squeezing past Katara and padding over to the bed. She threw herself onto the lumpy mattress, a cloud of waist-length hair and dust rising in her wake.

"No light," Katara explained, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Go across the hall to Sparky. He's usually still awake."

Right. Of course _Zuko_ would be the one she had to go to.

But there was no sense in arguing – Aang had floated off to bed an hour ago and she would hate to disturb him, Iroh's room was all the way at the other end of the hall, and anyone else would have to hassle themselves with finding spark rocks. It was easier to just got to the person she least wanted to see.

"I'll be back," she sighed, stepping out of the room into the dimly lit hallway. A few torches mounted on the walls provided just enough light to see by as she took the two steps required to reach Zuko's room. Easing the door open, she waited for signs of movement; if he was asleep, she didn't want to startle him. Not when she didn't know if he was an attack-first-ask-questions-later kind of person.

There was no sign of wakefulness. As she tiptoed into the room, her hip bumped a dresser by the door, making it rattle noisily.

"Who's there?"

Before she could answer, Zuko was upright and holding a flame in his palm, blinking at her tiredly. When recognition dawned, he sighed, letting the fire extinguish.

Somehow, Katara preferred talking to his silhouette. There was something unthreatening about a vague outline of shadows when compared to a fire lit face, all harsh angles and stark contrast between bright and dark.

Not that it mattered. All she needed was a candle to avoid the danger of stepping on unidentified garbage in Toph's room and so she could let the earthbender get her interrogation over with,

"Can I borrow a candle?"

The silhouette propped itself up further, having been resting on his elbows. Leaning over, he pulled open a drawer on his bedside table.

Hesitant, Katara inched her way closer, noting his floor was clear of any unsightly obstacles. It had never occurred to her before, but his clothing was always piled neatly at the foot of his bed when she did her laundry rounds, ready for pick up. Odd how a prince knew better how to care for himself than any of her friends.

There was a flicker of light, illuminating Zuko as he sat upright in his bed with ignited candle in hand. His eyes didn't meet hers as he held out the candle for her to take, muttering, "The wax melts pretty quickly. Try not to burn yourself."

"Right, thanks," she said, taking it from him and shielding the flame with her hand, once again casting darkness over his face. The flickering flame still shed light on the floor and ceiling, her form thrown across the walls in wavering shadow.

A loud sigh prompted her to look back over to Zuko.

He had his legs crossed, body hunched forward as he studied his toes intently. Gaze darting upward for the briefest of seconds, he muttered, "I'm sorry."

Snorting, Katara turned toward the door. "You've already said that about a hundred times. It's not gonna change anything."

"No, I mean for this morning."

Stopping in her tracks, she turned to stare at him in the semi-darkness.

"It wasn't my business to get involved in," he went on, gaze returning to his feet. They were bare, as was his torso; the only clothing he wore was a thin looking pair of pants, an outfit that looked like it would be unbearably cold. Hands folded on his lap and fidgeting nervously, he went on, "Your problems are your problems, and I shouldn't try to force you to tell me about them. And I can't exactly blame you for not trusting me."

Katara could only stare, mouth hanging slightly open as she tried to process his words and come up with a response. Was he actually _apologizing_? And for something he hadn't already been endlessly harassed and punished over?

"I've been talking to my uncle," he muttered, the words rushing out like some sort of embarrassed confession. Head lifting toward her, he said, voice carrying a hint of a smile, "Sorry if I'm not making a whole lot of sense. It's late."

"Right." She turned away again, hurrying toward the door. "I should go."

As she rushed from his room, she couldn't ignore the fact that his eyes never left her.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.


	28. Chapter 28

When Katara finally returned with candle in hand, Toph was sitting upright on the bed, arms crossed and expression impatient.

"Took you long enough," she greeted. "Now spill."

Katara sank onto the bed beside her with a sigh, wondering how to explain things while divulging the least number of secrets. If she just said, point blank, "It wasn't Zuko's fault so he didn't deserve the blame", Toph would start asking questions and never stop. But if she went into too much detail, it would be obvious when she skimmed over any facts.

Hoping to stall for some time, Katara searched the room for something of interest to mention. The most obvious thing her attention was drawn to was the general mess of the room, though she doubted Toph would be too pleased with _that_ conversation – she would probably just call her a nag then pester her into giving the full story on what had happened that morning. Letting her gaze drift across the room, she searched for something else of interest. Her eyes landed on the short wooden headboard, where light from the candle flame caught on unnaturally deep grooves. Leaning slightly to the side so the light shifted, she realized they were characters – words.

Now, why on Earth would _Toph,_ of all people, have words carved into her headboard?

"Where are those from?" Katara asked, nodding at the markings. When Toph raised an eyebrow in confusion, she clarified, "On the headboard. There's carvings."

"Oh." She reached up a hand to gently run her fingers over the indentations, pausing to feel out each individual line. "It's nothing."

But Katara could tell otherwise; Toph's fingers didn't fumble or search, instead moving across the characters with the familiarity of someone who had done so a hundred times before.

"Now, are you gonna keep avoiding the subject or are you actually gonna explain what went down this morning?"

Unfortunately, she knew pressing the issue would only make the young earthbender more curious and insistent about the topic at hand. Which meant that her little secret would have to wait to be revealed another day.

Shaking her head slightly, Katara decided to just plunge right in."You guys were being really annoying, so I left the kitchen to find some peace –"

"Already know that part, Sugar Queen. Quit stallin' and get to the goods."

"_Anyway_. I ran into Zuko, and he kept nagging at me and wouldn't leave me alone, and I was already angry thanks to you guys, so I hit him with some water and . . . things got a little out of hand."

There. The truth; flawless but unrevealing.

Still, Toph wasn't entirely satisfied.

"What was he bugging you about?" she asked, lying back on her lumpy mattress with her arms folded behind her head.

"He kept saying that I needed help and that I should talk to his uncle," she said, waving her hand in a vague circle as she spoke.

"So he was showing concern for your well-being and you got pissed off?" Toph hummed thoughtfully, a devilish smirk crossing her lips. "I'm starting the think a change of nickname is in order."

Katara held her breath – was that it? Just a simple questioning of Zuko's behaviour and a change in nicknames? No way; Toph _had_ to have something else in store for her. She wouldn't wait all day to torture her and then just let it slide by with a simple explanation. When it came to Toph, explanations were _never_ simple.

"But," the younger girl said, the single word causing Katara to release the breath she had been holding in an audible sigh, "that's not quite what I wanted to know."

"Well, what _do_ you want to know?" Katara huffed, crossing her arms. The continued questioning may have been predictable, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

"Why did you lie and keep Snoozles from pulverizing him?"

"Because," Katara said, pulling her knees to her chest and scowling down at her toes with the candle gripped tightly in one hand, "he wouldn't have deserved it, and I'm too good a person to stand by while someone is unjustly punished."

Toph snorted. "Bull-rooster shit."

"Do you want me to rinse your mouth out with soap?" Katara scolded, shooting her a look. All that time spent in Earth Rumbles, not to mention gambling, had taught her some pretty nasty language.

"You can _try_."

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Katara decided to let it drop. "What makes you think I'm lying, anyway?"

"You aren't; you're just withholding the full truth."

"No, I'm not. Zuko may be a jerk, but I still don't want him taking the fall for something _I_ did."

Eyes closing in obvious contentment, Toph's smirk grew to a grin. "That's what _you_ think."

"Of course that's what I think!"

Toph either didn't notice the annoyance in Katara's tone or chose to ignore it. Lifting one hand from behind her head, she made a shooing motion, saying, "Go sleep on it. It'll make more sense in the morning."

With a huff (who was Toph to tell her when she was right about her own motives?), Katara rose from the bed, candle in hand, and stalked from the room. She didn't make it halfway down the hall before Zuko's door creaked open, his head poking out.

"Everything alright?" he asked after a tentative moment. Judging by his alert eyes and non-bed-ruffled hair, he hadn't gone back to sleep yet.

Storming over, Katara thrust the candle at him, snapping, "Here. Take it. I'm done."

He barely had a chance to grab it from her hand before she was stomping off down the hall again, turning in to her bedroom, and slamming the door.

XxXx

The sunlight shining in through the window highlighted the dust and lint hanging in the air, making Ty Lee's bedroom feel more grimy and dungeon-like than usual. There was also a chill that lingered even on the hottest of days, something Ty Lee believed was the fault of ghosts but Mai suspected was a result of the temple being built almost entirely out of stone and sitting so low in a canyon.

Regardless of the cause, it made Mai miss the palace that much more – at least it was always warm there, if not overly so.

Not that she would ever go back. Azula's presence was enough to send her thoughts far from that possibility.

"So, what's the plan with Zuko?" Ty Lee asked, brushing out her short hair. There was no real mirror in the room (a fact that she had despaired over for their first day in the temple), but she had found a particularly large chunk left from a mirror that had been shattered in one of the bathrooms. With a little cleaning and a frame made of twigs, it was perfectly functional and – Mai had to admit – added a little charm to the otherwise dull room (she was beginning to understand why the monks had called them "cells").

"There is no plan."

"You're just gonna wing it?" There was a giddy lift in her tone, as if the excitement of merely saying it was enough to make her burst.

"No," Mai deadpanned, lying back on the flat, non-cushioning pillow, hands cupping the back of her head. When Ty Lee turned to her with wide eyes, brushing forgotten, she elaborated, "He's made it clear that he has no interest, and I don't think chasing after him will help."

"No!" Ty Lee whined, dragging out the syllable as she crossed the room and flopped down beside her. "No-no-no! I can fix this. Let me find some make-up and a cute outfit at the market, then I'll do your hair up all pretty and trap you in a room with him and not let you out until –"

"Ty Lee."

There was need to say anything more; she got Mai's message clear enough. But that didn't mean she would shut up.

"_I'm_ not giving up on Sokka! Come on, Mai, you've gotta at least try!"

"I think I've tried more than enough."

There was a pause. Ty Lee sat up, crossing her legs lotus-style and folding them against her chest like a shield. "Well . . . What're you gonna do? You're not . . . _leaving_, are you?"

"No," Mai said, voice quiet to match Ty Lee's sudden shift in mood. "Where else would I go?"

"But won't you be . . . you know? Bored?" She said the last word extra-quiet, like it was some sort of taboo. In a way it was; boredom was one of the few things Mai openly and frequently expressed hatred for.

And she was right. The Air Temple brought a whole new meaning the word "dull". Everyone else seemed content, busy with chores and training and their own interests, sometimes going so far as to complain about how _much_ they had to do (well, okay, the last part was mostly just Katara. Mai hated her more for it).

As she contemplated the dreaded boredom bound to consume her, motion in her peripheral caught Mai's attention. Propping herself up, she saw Jet passing by, hook swords in hand. Seeing her, he raised his weapons to her as if in greeting, lips drawn into a smirk.

Or maybe he was taunting her because he, too, had found his niche.

"I think," Mai said when he had disappeared down the hall, leaning back against the wall behind the bed, "I'll get a hobby."

* * *

Author's Notes_: Early chapter! 8D Merry Christmas/Kwanzaa/Chanukah/whatever else you may celebrate! _

_I may or may not have a quick drabble posted later today. Depends. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	29. Chapter 29

Zuko had moved in closer, now, smouldering fists throwing punches and legs aiming to trip – too close for water-whips to be effective. Abandoning the lashing streams of water, Katara drew from the resulting puddle of water. New, thin tendrils of water shot out at Zuko, coiling tightly around his wrists.

"Didn't hold me last time," he taunted as thin wisps of smoke already began rising around them.

"I don't need it to," she taunted right back, grin broadening.

Then she tackled him.

As far as sparring matches went, this one was shaping up to be quite interesting – a few feet away, they could still hear Aang muttering as he struggled to melt through rather thick binds of ice ("Stupid firebending-only-rule and Avatar Promises . . . I could waterbend myself out of this in no time"). At that moment, he was the only one not enjoying his begged-for three-way sparring match.

Which Katara decided was rather ironic, seeing as she hadn't exactly been thrilled about participating in it – she only agreed because his pleading was impossible to say no to – and Zuko hadn't looked to comfortable with the idea of fighting her in her choice of training clothes, if the avoidant gaze and red-tinted cheeks were anything to go by. Something that only succeeded in making Katara dread the sparring match even more, if only because Zuko's blatant discomfort had made her more than a little self-conscious.

Well, okay: at first she had mostly found it laughable.

After all, he hadn't seemed the least bit bothered on her first day in the palace when he had had to tackle her in the bathtub. How was being dressed in her undergarments any different – any _worse_? He had come to the breakfast table in just his shorts before (then again, so did all the boys. Including Iroh, unfortunately).

Still, his not-staring made her self-conscious. Was it really that bad? No one had ever commented before, but she hadn't had any time for serious practice since arriving at the temple; the only people familiar with her choice of clothing were Aang, Sokka, Toph, and Jet. The first two were like family, Toph was blind, and Jet was her boyfriend. They were safe, unjudgemental.

But in that moment, with the adrenaline of a fight pounding through her veins, she had trouble really caring what he thought of her. Especially since she was doing such a good job of handing his ass to him.

Until she discovered that tackling him was not the most strategic move.

His skin was slick with sweat and water from her attacks, allowing his wrists to slip and slide in her grip. If he wanted to attack her, he could with ease; nothing was stopping him from using his Breath of Fire. And then there was the simple fact that when it came to physical strength, he had the advantage.

So it came as no surprise when he had _her_ pinned under _him_ in ten seconds flat.

"Thanks for making things so easy," he said with a smirk, tone dropping so it was low and rough, breathing sporadic with fatigue.

It was in that instant that Katara realized what a compromising position they were both in. Did he notice? How could he _not_? Maybe the rush of fighting had distracted him – he didn't seem nearly as flustered about her state of dress as before, and neither had she until then. Unless maybe he was just _enjoying_ it, in which case she needed to free herself quickly. But how was she supposed to get someone as strong as Zuko off? Her fingers were still free, so maybe –

Water ploughed into Zuko's side, throwing him several feet and soaking Katara in the process. He landed hard on his shoulder, rolling a few times before coming to stop on his side.

"Ha!" Aang cheered from where he stood in the fountain, pumping the air with his fist. "I win!"

"That doesn't count!" Zuko protested, sitting upright and gripping his shoulder. "You waterbended!"

"She froze me into the fountain!"

"You could've _fire_bended yourself out!"

While the two bickered, Katara pushed herself upright and bent the water from her clothes. Collecting the scattered puddles together into a floating globe of water, she dropped it all back into the fountain.

"Well you – ah! Hey!" Aang shouted, trying unsuccessfully to use his arms as a shield from the resultant splash. "Katara, the game's over!"

"I know. I was just cleaning up," she said lightly as she got to her feet, unable to hide her grin. With Zuko now a safe distance away and focused completely on Aang, her nerves had calmed considerably.

"And it is _not_ over!" Zuko growled, jabbing his finger toward Aang.

The boy in question only smiled more, pleasure at victory (however unfairly it was earned) written all over his face. Moving away with a skip in his step, he said, "Alright. How about . . . if you can catch me, then you're right and you win by default?"

"How about –"

"Okay! Ready? Go!" he blurted, before taking off at top airbender-speed, a cloud of dust rising in his wake.

Zuko sighed and shook his head, still massaging his shoulder.

Wordlessly, Katara strode over to him, pooling together the water drenching his skin so it was concentrated on his shoulder. He shuddered slightly, but didn't move away or offer any resistance. Gently, she nudged away his hand so she could have a clear look at the injury. The skin was scraped pretty badly, and it was already discoloured by rainbow of greens and browns. She pressed her fingers against it slightly.

Biting back a yelp, he swatted her hand away. "What was that for?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I'm just making sure it didn't get dislocated or something."

Placing her hand over the spot where the pool of water was gathered, she concentrated on his torn skin and the energy flowing through it. The water began to glow, signally the start of the healing process.

"So," Zuko said, staring intently at her hand. He cleared his throat noisily. "Uh. That was some really awesome bending. You almost had me beat."

"You weren't so bad, either," she begrudgingly admitted. In fact, she thought he had been pretty fantastic, getting through her defences and countering her offenses like he knew her technique inside and out, but there was no way she would ever go _that_ far in complimenting him. "Aang was pretty amazing, huh?"

"His high kicks were sloppy," Zuko said, smile shifting to a slight scowl. "And he kept cheating. Why can't he play fairly?"

"I blame Toph's influence. He's been hanging around with her a bit too much for my liking lately."

"I think he's just showing off."

Lowering her hands, Katara surveyed the newly healed skin of his shoulder; it didn't look like it had ever been injured in the first place. "There – all patched up. What do you mean, 'showing of'? Who would he show off for – it's just the three of us."

Rotating his shoulder to ensure that it had been healed properly, Zuko gave her a look that encompassed both disbelief and pity. "If you haven't figured it out by now, I doubt you ever will."

Then he stepped away, bowed with a word of thanks, and disappeared up a set of stairs, presumably in pursuit of Aang.

Crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one foot, Katara scowled at his retreating back. What was it with people telling her things but not _telling_ her anything – first there was the thing with Toph, and now this! It was completely unfair.

Not that dwelling on it would fix anything.

With a sigh (why did things have to be so _weird_?), she turned to head back down the breezeway –

"Hey, Katara!"

- And almost ran smack into Aang.

Glancing around as though wary of someone jumping out of the shadows at him (which, given the past year, wasn't an unfounded fear), he cupped a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered, "Where's Zuko?"

"He just left. Don't worry – I don't think he'll be coming anytime soon."

He groaned, shoulders slumping. "What'd you do?"

"Nothing!" she snapped defensively, hands moving to her hips. "I just don't think he's think to look for you here."

"Oh. So, uh . . . About Zuko – "

"What?" Her tone was clipped and impatient and probably a bit too harsh to be directed at Aang, she knew, but the frequent nagging of "Do you trust Zuko? How 'bout now? Now?" was getting more than a little irritating.

Aang flinched slightly, but pressed onward. "I'm just wondering what you think of him now. You know: as a fellow teacher."

"He's fine."

" . . . And as a friend he's . . .?"

It was hard to hold back a sigh.

Would it be best just tell him straight out that there was no way, no how she was ever going to trust Zuko? Or let him down gently and say she was starting to see the supposed good in him? What if Zuko was listening or Aang went off and told him. Or, worse, what if Toph was in earshot?

"I'm not sure, Aang," she said at last. "There's just so much he did to us, I . . . I don't know if I can look past that. But I'm doing my best."

"Yeah. I figured that," he said, slumping. Then, sending her sly sidelong glance, he added, "I cheated for you."

"What?"

A sheepish grin split across his face, as though he had just admitted to some heinous crime. Rubbing the back of his neck, he explained, "Well, I figured maybe seeing Zuko get tossed around would make him less scary for you. It helped when I started training with him, so . . ."

Joy spread through her like hot seaweed tea on a particularly icy day. He had risked Zuko's snap temper for her benefit? Even if it was just another way of pestering her about trusting the jerk, there was no denying it was the most thoughtful thing anyone had done for her in a while.

"Aw, that's so sweet," she cooed, stopping to give him a hug and peck on the tip of his arrow tattoo. His cheeks reddened in what she assumed was flustered pride.

"You cheating on me with Aang?"

Katara turned to see Jet approaching from the staircase (she wondered briefly if he had had a run-in with Zuko, but the lack of burns and bruises seemed to indicate otherwise), a playful smirk on his lips. The hint of suspicion in his gaze didn't go unnoticed, however.

"Oh, relax, Jet," she said with a roll of her eyes. "You know Aang's like family."

The boy in question shrank away, smile waning. "I, um, gotta go train with Toph."

Then he scurried away without another word.

In the meantime, Jet kept a sour expression on his face despite his mouth twitching upward with the urge to smile. Hands on hips, Katara sighed with mock impatience and strode purposefully closer. Reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, she raised herself on tip-toes to peck him on the lips.

"Much better," he murmured, smirk returning. "Now, how about we have our first lesson?"

"Sure," she said. Dropping her arms from his shoulders, she took a step back, speaking as soon as confusion registered on his face. "I just need to change into something a little more comfortable."

"That looks plenty comfy to me."

Turning toward the breezeway, Katara snorted and, with an expert twist of her wrist, conjured a water-whip to smack him on the arm. Over her shoulder, she called, "One more comment like that and your butt'll be frozen in an ice block."

* * *

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.**


	30. Chapter 30

Nightfall came faster than usual, it seemed, throwing the temple into shadow the same eerie way it always did. That didn't make Zuko rush to bed any faster, however; there was far too much cluttering up his thoughts for sleep to be anywhere in the realm of possibility.

It had been that way for the past several nights.

Standing in the usual courtyard by the canyon's edge, Zuko stared up at the light speckled sky. It was the only thing he could see in the pitch dark and, frankly, he liked it better that way. A cool, constant wind chilled him to his heat-seeking bones, though he shivered for an entirely different reason.

During the short moment he _did_ sleep, the strange dreams had returned – with Long Feng and his mother and father and the Comet. But there was more this time. Azula was always right behind him, at the edge of his vision, disappearing as soon as he turned to face her. The only thing that never left was her taunting, cackling laugh.

And Aang – he stood right where the Comet was aimed to hit, just staring up at it, listless and oblivious and waiting until the last moment to defend himself. But when he tried to use his bending, it turned against him, setting him ablaze or sucking him into the earth or something equally horrendous. He was helpless, and nothing Zuko did could save him. Not that he tried; it was just one of those facts that you always know in a dream.

The others were scattered, all coming in glimpses more terrifying than the last. What was perhaps the most terrifying, however, was Katara.

She wasn't there.

Not seen or heard or felt or anything. Just gone.

That alone was enough to make Zuko's blood run cold.

Part of him wanted to run to his uncle like he did those first nights on his ship, knowing the old man was something of an expert at easing away fear and anxiety. But it had been three years since he had sought comfort for something as silly as dreams and there was no way he would allow his pride to take such a humiliating hit. If he was considered mature enough to run an entire nation, he should be able to cope with a few disturbing dreams.

Somewhere behind him, a pebble skittered across the ground.

Zuko whipped around, eyes scanning the flat darkness. Nothing seemed to stir, but for all he could see whatever had made the noise could be standing two feet away holding a dagger to his throat.

'_It was the wind_,' he told himself, taking a deep breath to try and ease the growing panic tightening his chest. '_I'm just being paranoid. Need to relax. Deep breath _–'

Something like footsteps scurried past.

'_Does the wind have feet_?'

What if it was Azula? She could have found the war balloon abandoned at the back of the field above the temple. _Anyone_ could've. Maybe the Fire Nation had sent a whole fleet of assassins searching for them, determined to wipe out the Avatar and the traitor prince. What if he was already surrounded, or the others had been killed in their sleep, or –

"Who's there?" Zuko shouted, hands balled into such tight fists he thought his nails might puncture skin.

No response; just a rustle of wind.

"_Answer me!_"

Footsteps, quiet and moving closer.

"Who are you?" he shouted, flames jumping to life in his palm as he swung outward, creating a burning arc of light.

There was barely a second to glimpse the person's face before a pillar of earth shot up in front of it, but what he saw was enough to make his stomach feel like an anchor as it was thrown overboard.

_Toph_.

No sooner had he processed this fact then she was screaming and the light from the fire vanished. He hardly realized what he was doing before he was on the other side of the pillar, a small flame dancing on his palm as he tried to assess the damage. The tiny earthbender was on her side, teeth clenched and legs curled to her chest. Crouching beside her, Zuko let his gaze sweep over her, trying to find any signs of injury.

His breath caught. Reaching for her foot, he said, "Your burn – "

"Don't touch it!" she snapped, swatting his hand away.

"You need help."

As Toph continued to grumble and growl at him, the usual edge in her voice weakened with pain, Zuko wracked his brain for a plan. His thoughts immediately jumped the Katara; Toph needed healing fast to prevent scarring to her feet and an even worse case of blindness. The explanation would have to wait.

"We need to get you to Kat – Hey! Just let me –" Her dirty palm was mashed against his face, pushing him as far away as her short arms would allow. Turning so her hand was pressed to the side of his head, he growled, "You can't _walk_ to Katara by yourself!"

"I don't need to!"

"What?"

"Queenie!" Toph bellowed. "If you know what's good for you you'll get your butt over here _right_ _now_!"

Footsteps rushed closer. An instant later, Katara seemingly materialized into the small pool of light Zuko had created, gaze flicking back and forth between him and Toph as she asked, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Yeah," Sokka's voice interjected just before he appeared. "What's going on? We heard shouting."

Soon, all the temple's residents save for Appa and Mom were crowded around them, all very tired and confused and concerned. Aang sparked a second flame so everyone could see properly.

In response to their prying questions, Toph nodded at Zuko, face scrunched up in pain and annoyance as she snapped, "Jerk-Face here burnt my feet."

Everyone started yelling at once ("You _what_?" "I'm gonna –" "– and never come back!"), making Zuko's head spin with guilt and panic. Even his uncle – _his own uncle_ – was eying him with an expression of shame and disappointment, forehead creased as he shook his head. It didn't matter that he had proven himself trust worthy of the past weeks; Toph's injury was evidence enough against him.

"Guys, wait! Listen!" he shouted, struggling to be heard over the yelled threats. "I didn't – "

"Of course you did!" Sokka cut in immediately. Pointing vehemently to Toph's feet, which Katara already had a pool of glowing water pressed to, he snapped, "How else would she get burnt like that?"

"It was an accident!"

"Oh, so you 'accidently' threw fire at her feet and left her blind and defenceless?"

"Yes! No!" He gripped his head with both hands, gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut. "I didn't know it was her!"

"What happened, Zuko?" Aang demanded, stern tone prompting Zuko to look at him. His mind returned to the image of him about to be crushed by the Comet, pleading eyes turned red by the light of the fire.

"I . . ." The words and images of his nightmare tumbled through his mind, gripping his heart with familiar terror. It was a jumbled mess yet somehow perfectly clear. His tongue stubbornly refused to offer any explanation, throat suddenly feeling as dry as a Fire Nation desert. "I . . ."

'_Say something! Anything!_' his thoughts (at least, the coherent ones) roared.

"She startled me. I thought . . . maybe someone had tracked us."

"So you threw _fire_ at her?"

"I didn't know who was there!"

Jet chose that moment to step forward. Fixing a glare on Zuko, his features overshadowed and intimidating in the dim firelight (Aang held all the light by then, Zuko's flame having been long since forgotten), he said, "I don't believe you for one second."

"_I'm not lying_!" he bellowed, fists clenching at his sides as his expression contorted in a mix of frustration and desperation. His gaze darted over to Toph despite knowing it was useless; with the condition of her feet, there was no way she could vouch for his honesty. He turned his gaze to Iroh, pleading.

But Jet remained firm, and no else seemed willing to defend him.

"If we can't be absolutely sure that this was an accident," Jet said, speaking in a low, rough tone, "then we can't risk having you anywhere near Aang. So you're gonna have to leave."

"_What_?" The sensation gripping his heart began squeezing his throat as well, so tight that all other words were choked off before they could even fully form.

"But . . ." Ty Lee started to say from where she stood at the back of the crowd, hands hugged against her chest and eyes wide with a mix of concern and confusion. "But Zuko wouldn't do that. Toph's his fr–"

"You're lucky we trust any of you at all!" Jet snapped. His calm demeanour had shattered, anger radiating from him in waves. Taking a few long strides until he was almost nose-to-nose with Zuko, he jabbed a finger in the other teen's chest, growling, "After what you did to Katara, you're lucky I didn't kill you the first chance I got. The only reason you're still breathing is because Aang _insisted_ you be his teacher. And – "

"Do you still want that?" Zuko blurted, gaze snapping toward Aang. "You like me teaching you, right?"

The young Avatar stared at him for a few long, slow seconds. His grey eyes met Zuko's, unwavering but wide with uncertainty, a million thoughts seeming to pass through them. Then they flicked away from Zuko – to Jet, scowling and seething; to Toph, propped up against the low stone wall surrounding the fountain with uncharacteristic vulnerability; then finally to Katara, busying herself with the vicious scalds, weaving water in and out of the raw wounds. When he turned back to Zuko, Aang's gaze had hardened.

"No."

And so with one blunt syllable, Zuko's fate was sealed.

With a final, desperate glance at his supposed-allies (Iroh could only shake his head helplessly; Ty Lee offered an apologetic, regretful smile; and Mai kept her stoic gaze locked on the uneven stone ground), Zuko solemnly submitted to his punishment.

Yet another exile to add to his long list of failures.

XxXx

Katara watched as Zuko mounted Appa in preparation of leaving the temple, Jet climbing on behind him as security. It took all her will-power to tear her gaze away and focus on the horror that was skin of Toph's heels and arches and toes. Threading another stream of water through, she tried to focus on the soothing sensation of healing.

Around her, everyone murmured about the treachery Zuko had committed. Of the inevitability. Finally, he was gone – they could rest easy and stop worrying.

So . . .

Why wasn't she happy?

* * *

Author's Notes: _Late once again. Sorry about that. I think it's safe to say that I'm going to be a little irregular with updates now, just because school work is unavoidable and eats up a lot of my focus. But I'll do my best to keep on track with this!_

_Also, HURRAY! The plot returns. xD I actually had a couple other scenes written _before_ this, but I've decided they're too filler-y and this story needs a serious kick in the butt in terms of direction. If I start getting painfully off track again, just yell at me a little and I'll try ot straighten it out. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	31. Chapter 31

The next morning found Katara in the communal bathroom with Toph, the younger girl's feet submerged in the massive, in-ground bathtub. Katara sat in the water in front of her, concentrating healing energies into her badly burned feet while trying to push away her own memories of the pain fire brought. Memories of Aang's mistake, Zuko's attempted lesson, the soldiers who raided her village . . .

But that wasn't what mattered at the moment; what mattered was Toph's injuries and unusually sombre mood.

The girl needed cheering up, that much was clear.

The problem was, even _Katara_ wasn't in a good mood after the events of the previous night, and it wasn't because of the residual exhaustion or pity for Toph's condition (well, not _entirely_). The temple felt oddly vacant without Zuko there, consuming everything with fear and anxiety and wasted apologies.

_(And confidence and help and uncharacteristic calm)_.

The last part came as a whispered thought, nagging her into remembering the good he had done.

Which was a total contradiction because this was _Zuko_ and he didn't do good and the way he was messing with her mind at that very moment was a fine example of that.

"He didn't mean it."

Katara's gaze snapped from Toph's feet up to her face. "What?"

"It was an accident," she went on, eyes and voice and body weighed down with sorrow. "I scared him . . . On purpose. He'd been so jittery I just . . . thought it would be funny."

"Then he burned you."

Reluctantly, she nodded. "He's nicer than you think."

The whispers and memories continued to trickle in. Katara shook her head, trying to shove them aside. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Don't need my feet to know _that_'s a lie."

"He can't be trusted," Katara stated, voice firmer than her resolve. If Zuko was the wind and Toph was the ocean, then her resolve had to be the rocks; pounded and pounded until there was nothing left.

Letting the glow of the water ebb away, Katara gently eased Toph's foot up out of the tub so she could examine its sole. The skin was still angry red and tender, but she was confident that continuing her rigorous healing schedule over the next few days would eliminate the chance of scarring and have the earthbender back on her feet in no time.

"Why are _you_ so convinced he's a good guy?" she asked finally, turning her attention to the opposite foot. It seemed to have sustained worse injury.

"Because. Trust me; I know stuff about him that guarantees he's not evil."

"Like what?"

"Sorry – I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Then he's doomed to exile."

A heavy silence fell through the room. If it weren't for the swishing of the water around her, Katara would have thought she had gone deaf. Toph, for her part, bore a solemn expression completely out of her usual character.

"What?" Katara asked, unsure she wanted to know the answer. "What is it?"

"There's some . . . stuff Zuko's gone through. Bad stuff. It's the reason he was so determined to capture Aang."

She was silent for a moment, mulling over her own words and leaving Katara to her thoughts. To the memory of Ozai's attitude toward Zuko during that dinner so long ago, the nightmare he refused to talk about . . .

"How do you know?"

"How do I know so much about _any_one?"

Much as Katara would have loved to prove her wrong, she knew she couldn't. With Toph's people skills (specifically her ability to see right through them), she could learn pretty much anything she wanted about pretty much _any_one she wanted. It was an unfair and unavoidable truth.

But that didn't mean she had to forgive a traitor like Zuko.

"He's a good guy, Sugar Queen," Toph insisted, staring blankly down in the general direction of her feet. "I know you know it."

Curiosity had Katara speaking before she could fully consider the consequence of her words. "I'll agree with you when you can show me proof."

The earthbender pulled her foot out of her grasp.

"What are you –"

Swinging her legs out of the bathtub, Toph gingerly placed both feet on the floor, wincing as she said through clenched teeth, "Alright. I'll show you just how nice he is."

Then she sank down onto her hands and knees and proceeded to crawl toward the door, palms taking her feet's usual duty of sight.

After a fumbling moment of confusion, Katara hoisted herself out of the tub and hurried after her, not caring to dry off before she did so. Figuring out what in Yue's name Toph thought she was doing was far more important than preventing puddles.

"Toph!" she scolded, having easily caught up with her slow-moving friend. Offering her hand, she said, "You shouldn't be moving on your own. Here, let me –"

But Toph only swatted her hand away and tried to crawl faster. "I don't need to be carried!"

Finally, they reached their destination: Toph's room. It was in the same disarray as when Katara had been interrogated, though the sunlight spilling in through the window revealed something she hadn't noticed before.

Words weren't just carved into the short headboard. They were on the _walls_.

_'The greatest earthbender in the world sleeps here_!'

'_Home to the Avatar's personal trainer_!'

'_No shoes allowed_!'

Slowly, she walked to the center of the room, eyes still locked on the walls. She didn't even care about what she might accidently step in anymore. The carvings weren't just lightly scraped into the walls – they were deep, prominent. Some even jutted _out_ from the walls.

It had to be the work of an earthbender.

Turning to Toph (who sat, tired from her short but painful trek, on the floor in the middle of the doorway), Katara struggled with speech. "This – how? How did you –?"

"Sparky," She said simply, voice and expression solemn. Running her stubby fingers along the characters on the doorframe, a small, sad smile found her lips as she added, "He taught me to write. I would tell him what I wanted to say, and he would make the shape of the words on one of my hands while I wrote it on the wall with the other."

Katara stood silent, listening, disbelieving.

Because he was _Zuko_. He hunted and haunted and kidnapped and definitely did _not_ do nice things like teach blind girls to write their name on their headboard. He was the prince of the firebenders; he was _bred_ to hate and hurt and do unspeakable things.

But so was Iroh, and he was anything but the evil his country embodied. He was loving and peaceful and patient, soaking up the world around him with utmost intrigue and happiness. He was a master of the violent element of fire, but also one of Pai Sho and tea. He could lead a military siege of the best fortified city in the world, but he could also carry on conversations with Aang about the benefits of a pacifist existence.

Maybe Zuko was the same, in his own strange way.

Sinking to the floor (her legs were reluctant to support her after such a revelation), she let the whispered thoughts flood her mind with renewed fervour. Memories rushed past – of Zuko's toddler picture, wide-eyed and innocent; of the nightmares he refused to speak of but tossed and turned over; of his inability to remember the simplest of things, including his own mother's face.

What if Toph was right?

What if . . . he _was_ good?

XxXx

The sun was rising, and there was nowhere for Zuko to hide.

After being exiled from the temple, he had headed east toward the closest town, hoping to find a cheap inn. Given his luck, it shouldn't have come as any surprise that there were posters of him and his uncle and Mai and Ty Lee plastered all over the town with the words "Wanted: Dead or Alive" scrawled across the bottom. Nor should it have been at all unexpected that the first person he encountered took one look at his scar and shouted, "Traitor prince!"

Which was precisely why he was hiding in a shadowy corner of an alley, praying the mob of villagers would stop searching for him soon. His skills as the Blue Spirit had helped him survive being hunted at night, but stealth would be of little use in broad daylight.

'_I need to find somewhere away from people,_' he decided, listening as voices and footsteps continued passing by. '_I'll get some rest there, then figure out what to do long-term_.'

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was something.

After waiting a few minutes after the last voices faded to ensure his pursuers where a fair distance away, Zuko began searching the alley for the best route out. Being boxed in on three sides with its only opening leading straight into public streets, he quickly deduced that up was his most favourable option; nobody had any reason to look to the roofs.

He was just beginning to brace his feet against the wall when he heard a chillingly familiar voice.

". . . are likely with the Avatar. If you see anyone who resembles these four individuals, don't hesitate to report them. Any information you can offer will bring us that much closer to ending the Avatar's threat once and for all!"

_Azula_.

Marching through the town telling people to keep searching for him.

Now standing at the mouth of the alleyway and peering into the gradually shifting darkness.

Meaning a change of plans was in order. Running around on roof tops in the ever-increasing daylight would be hard enough to manage with just the villagers on the lookout for him – with Azula and the royal guard searching for him too, it would be suicide.

But what else _could_ he do? Hiding in the alley would only work for so long, and, knowing Azula was taking charge of the situation, he doubted it would be near as long as the villagers would be searching for. The only other way out was the way he came in, and Azula was standing _right there_.

'_Sometimes you gotta face your problems head-on, like a rock_.'

Of all the advice to turn up, his brain had to pick Toph's. Blunt, brutal, rough-and-tumble _Toph_.

Well, after burning her the way he had, maybe adopting her motto would be the best way to pay his respects. Besides – what other choice did he have?

Which is why Zuko charged, hands blazing, out of the shadows and at his sister.

"Hello, Zuzu," Azula greeted as she crouched to evade his pre-emptive fire blast with her usual reflexes. Sweeping her foot across the ground, she sent an arc of flame rushing toward Zuko. He narrowly leaped out the way. "I was just looking for you. You couldn't by any chance lead me to the Avatar, could you?" Her voice had turned fakely sweet in contrast with her aggressive attack pattern.

Barely avoiding injury from an onslaught of small but precise flames, Zuko didn't pause for a second as he grunted, "No."

"That's a shame." Her hands and feet continued moving in a blur, body seeming incapable of stopping, each blast forcing Zuko to backtrack further and further into the alley. On the street, a crowd of spectators was gathering, cheering on the princess. A twisted, foreboding smirk found Azula's lips as she said, "I suppose a trip the palace dungeon will do you good. You know how _persuasive_ our guards can be."

Mouth forming a grim line, Zuko tried not to remember the way the palace guards had dragged answers out of prisoners on the rare occasions his father had taken them down to learn about handling political threats. It was a visit Azula had always taken sick pleasure from.

Still, the mention of the palace guards brought something unusual to his attention; despite being far from the safety of home in pursuit of rebels and traitors like himself, Azula was completely alone. There wasn't a single guard in sight.

As strong and independent as she may have been, Azula didn't travel alone.

Swatting one flame aside and throwing a second back at his sister, Zuko asked, "Where are your guards, anyway? They finally get sick of you, too?"

The redirected blast was evaded and countered with a much larger, concussive blast that knocked Zuko flat on his back. He barely had a chance to roll out of the way before she swung a flaming axe-kick at his head, saying, "I've simply realized that a team is a liability. Their incompetence holds you back –" she grabbed the end of a fire whip he had conjured with a hand gloved in cyan fire "– and you can never trust them to be loyal!"

Jerking hard on the lash, she slammed Zuko into the wall of the alley. He landed in a heap on the ground, groaning and aching and seeing stars. In his disoriented state, he had no chance to get to his feet before Azula was grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to the wall.

"Now, brother," she said, holding up a palm full of flickering azure, "care to tell me where the Avatar and his little friends are hiding? Or would you rather I even out your face?"

His head was throbbing and he could barely breathe through her tight grip, but Zuko knew spilling any details about his (former) friends' location would be far worse treason than any burn. Given Azula's resources, she could have a fleet of airships on the Air Temple's doorsteps in a matter of hours.

Lying wouldn't help. It would buy time, sure, but nothing could stop Azula from scouring the entire continent for Aang.

'_I have to warn them somehow_,' he realized. If the others were at least aware of the possibility of Azula finding them, they might be cautious enough to avoid a catastrophe.

Prying at the hand Azula had around his throat, Zuko managed enough air to grunt, "I don't know."

She pressed harder; earning a sputtering gasp and making his face redden with need for oxygen. "Now, now, Zuzu. Didn't father ever teach you not to lie to family?"

"I . . . don't know," he repeated. He squinted to shield his eyes from the sun peaking just above the rooftops, his back chaffing against the uneven bricks of the wall. Drawing the deepest breath he could, he spoke quickly to preserve air. "They kicked me out. Told me not to come back. They're probably halfway across the Fire Nation."

"Well, where _were_ they staying? I'm sure I can retrace their steps."

"Inochi*. It's really small; not even on a map. Just a few miles east of here."

For a moment, Azula only stared at him through slit eyes, making his heart race and thoughts spin. Did she believe him? She could tell, couldn't she? He never had been a good liar – and now he had told the most obvious one possible. He had failed everyone that mattered most to him, all in foul swoop.

In the next moment, he was collapsed on the ground gasping for air, the world around him hazy and confused. Crunching pebbles announced Azula's leave. "This better not be a lie, Zuko, or I won't hold back next time."

Blinking away dark spots in his vision, Zuko struggled to find his voice. "Why not . . . take me now?"

The footsteps paused, something resembling a laugh escaping her. "Oh, Zuzu, you would only weigh me down. Besides, you're hardly a threat worth worrying about."

Then she marched off, leaving her brother to gasp in agony and panic.

* * *

_*__Inochi: __most precious person or thing_.

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: the Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.**


	32. Chapter 32

"What are you so upset about?"

Digging her elbows into the lumpy mattress on her bed, Katara propped herself upright to get a clearer view of Jet standing in her doorway. Crossing the room in a few leisurely strides, he took a seat on the end of the bed and patted her foot. "Hey, don't worry; Toph's doing fine. It's hardly been a day and you've already worked a miracle on her burns."

Flopping back onto her pillows, Katara stared up the ceiling, dingy and cracked from a century of neglect. With a half-hearted sigh, she murmured, "I know."

". . . That's not why you're upset, is it?"

Opening her mouth to argue, she hesitated. On the one hand, she hated to lie to Jet – that was how their relationship had started (well, _he_ had been the one doing the lying), and it wasn't exactly something she wanted to continue. Besides, he was her boyfriend, and she _wanted_ to be able to lament all her stresses and worries to him.

However, this wasn't really something he was likely to understand.

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not," Jet insisted, scooting closer to her on the bed. "Now tell me so I can cheer you up."

"Trust me, Jet. It's not something you would understand."

Pulling back slightly, he paled as he asked, "Is it, uh, girl stuff?"

"No," she said, rolling over to bury her face in her pillow, only to immediately regretted her response. Girl Stuff had already proven to be the perfect deterrent for Jet's curiosity. Now she would have to endure his prying questions and stubborn, persuasive nature.

Sliding even closer, he lay down beside her and continued prying. Just as predicted. "What's wrong? C'mon –" he brushed back some of her hair in an effort to catch a glimpse of her buried face "– you know you can tell me anything."

Guilt gnawed at her like locust-rats, wearing away at her stubborn assurance that he wouldn't understand. Jet _had_ been through a lot with her since Ba Sing Se, not to mention lived with four Fire Nation natives for over a month. He was even able to go through a whole meal without making some comment about Fire Nation schemes or dining with the enemy. Maybe he had changed.

Still, this was about _Zuko_. Next to the Fire Lord himself, he was probably Jet's least favourite person in the world. What where the chances that he could see why she regretted exiling him, that he could understand wanting to find him and bring him back? Even she still had a hard time believing it.

But then she would remember what Toph had told her – _every_thing she had told her, about his family and his scar and his past – and all the horrible things he had ever done suddenly made perfect sense.

It didn't make them _right_. But it did soften her mental image of him; change him from red and black and sharp to light tones and smooth edges.

Maybe – _maybe_ – if Jet knew that side of Zuko (the side not so different from _him_), his views of the prince would change, too.

Turning her head so she could look him in the eye, she hesitated only briefly before saying, "I'm just . . . worried, is all. Kind of . . . regretful."

Frowning, Jet propped himself up slightly, inkling his head. "What? Why?"

"Well, I was talking to Toph and she showed me some things and . . ." Katara paused for a long moment, not sure even _she_ wanted to hear herself say the words out loud and shatter all chances of returning to doubt. "And, well, I think Zuko might actually be an okay guy."

"_What_?" Jet cried, bolting upright. For a moment, he stared at her in silence, expression frozen to one of slack-jawed bewilderment. Then he laughed.

"Jet, I'm serious," she said, sitting upright and folding her legs underneath herself. Gaze following her, Jet's bewildered expression – smile and all – remained intact. "When I was talking to Toph, she told me all these great things he did. I mean, he taught her to _write_."

"I'm sure."

"He _did_ – and I can show you. Besides, what reason would she have to lie?"

Shrugging, he leaned back against the headboard, which was only as high as the middle of his back. "She loves messing with people's head."

"But not jeopardizing our _lives_," she snapped. Huffing, she shook her head at him and got to her feet. "I told you you wouldn't get it."

"I just don't see how you can worry about someone who's caused us nothing but pain!" he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back down. "Where are you going?"

"Away from you," she said coldly, trying to pull free. His grip only tightened.

"We're _talking_ about this. You can't fall in love with a firebender and expect me not to –"

"_Love_?" she screeched, eyes growing wide as an owl-cow's. "I'm not in _love_ with him! I'm upset because we kicked him out of the temple! What is your _problem_?"

Jet was on his feet now, height looming over her in a failed effort at intimidation. "The Fire Nation's taken away everything I care about once before. What's stopping them from doing it again?"

"Zuko is _not_ the Fire Nation and he's not going to _steal_ me!"

"He's part of it! He's their _prince_." The last word was said in a tone that suggested it tasted like bile, Jet's nose wrinkling in disgust. "And he's already taken you away once."

"Okay, yes, that was definitely one of his more horrible actions," Katara conceded. "But he let me go, and he gave up his life as a prince. He's not part of the Fire Nation anymore! Besides, what about _Aang_?"

"Aang's not a firebender, he's –"

"The _Avatar_! He's been someone from every nation a _thousand times_!"

"That's not the same - he's not a real firebender."

"Oh _really_ now?" Katara had her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed in a glare and voice filled with the ice she was famous for bending. "And what exactly _is_ a 'real firebender'?"

His eyes narrowed in a scowl, lips twisted in a frown. "You just don't get it. I thought you of all people would understand why people like him can never be trusted, but you don't."

Then he stalked toward the door, bumping her shoulder as he went. Clearly, he was done with their conversation.

Katara, however, had other ideas.

Grabbing his wrist with water pulled from the pouch at her side, she yanked him stumbling back toward her.

"Now _I_ want to talk," she said, wrapping the water around him so his arms were bound to his sides. Using one hand to grip the liquid tether, she returned her other to hand to her hip. "You've gotten beyond paranoid."

"You _know_ what he did to you, you _know_ what he did to Toph – I have every reason not to trust him!" Jet yelled indignantly, straining against his binds.

"You also know he's been sleeping in this temple night after night, training Aang day after day, and never once tried to take advantage of that!"

"What's wrong with Toph, then?" Before she had a chance to respond, he shook his head and, expression full of hurt and frustration, added, "What _happened _to you? You used to hate him almost more than I did and now –"

"Why is Jet tied up like a polar ape-skunk?"

Turning her gaze from Jet, Katara saw Sokka standing in the doorway carrying Toph and looking at them with a somewhat bewildered expression.

"_Nothing_ is wrong!" Katara shouted, letting the water binding Jet fall to the floor. Then she stormed out of the room, shoving past her brother and pausing only to yell, "And for the record, Jet, we're _through_!"

Staring after her until she disappeared around the corner, Sokka frowned and turned to Jet. "Alright, what the hell did you do?"

"Hey –" Jet held up his hands defensively, shrugging "– _she's_ the one with the problem, not me!"

"Not from what I heard," Toph said, grinning. "You have any idea how good my ears are?"

Sokka, taking an intimidating step forward (well, as intimidating as one could be while weighed down by a blind girl), said, "Explain."

"Well, Sugar Queen was yelling at Jet here 'cause he was upset with her for not hating Zuko and – "

"Toph? I meant for _Jet_ to explain."

"Oh."

Sighing, Sokka looked from Toph to Jet with his mouth open to speak. Then, forehead knitting together, he paused, gaze jerking back to Toph. "Wait – Katara _doesn't_ hate Zuko?"

She could only grin. "Why don't you guys sit down while I tell you the whole story?"

XxXx

The sun was scorching from its perch high up in the sky, seeming to burn a hole straight through the top of Zuko's head. Fire Nation summers were always ruthless. He did his best to focus on the energy it gave him and channel it into a faster pace toward the temple, but it was hard to ignore his thirst.

Maybe, if he was lucky, Aang and the others would be easy to convince of Azula's imminent threat and they would let him have some water before she showed up.

Doubtful. But it was still a nice thought.

_'These people are_ terrible _with their security_,' he thought, finding the old rope he, Iroh, Ty Lee, and Mai had used to scale down the side of the canyon. It seemed like that had been years ago, and yet no one had done thought to remove the rope.

Tugging on the it to test its stability, Zuko couldn't help wondering why his uncle hadn't defended him the night before – he had gone through so much trouble to _get_ him there, why not do the same to keep him from leaving?

'B_ecause no one would listen. Toph's feet were burned and all signs pointed to me. Nothing he could say or do would disprove that_.'

Still, lingering doubt made him nervous of what would happen when he confronted the others. Would Iroh try and help persuade them? Or would he just watch him squirm again? Maybe Toph's feet would be completely healed (Katara _was_ known to work miracles) and she could vouch for his honesty.

Grabbing the rope with both hands, Zuko let himself slip off the edge of the cliff and into the canyon. His descent was fast at first, but then he tightened his grip, the rope burning his palms as he slowed to a sluggish crawl.

Would Ty Lee stand up for him, like before? It seemed doubtful that Mai would say or do anything because, well, it was _Mai_. And, of course, he hadn't exactly been kind to her recently; ever since his little blow up at her, he had avoided talking to her all together. Which, in such a large temple with so many people, wasn't a difficult task.

A regrettable task, but not a difficult one.

The aforementioned enormous structure was soon within his reach, causing him to halt his descent all together and take a moment to regroup his courage. Maybe it would be better not to go in, to just stay right where he was. The view was nice, and the air was clean, and he didn't really _need_ food or water or the skin on his hands.

Better yet, he could just let go and put himself out of his seemingly unending misery.

. . . But then Azula would get to them. Whether he liked it or not, he would have to endure their wrath to save them.

Swinging his weight forward on the rope, Zuko allowed his body to gain momentum before letting go and enjoying a few seconds of blissful freefall. It occurred to him that this was what Aang felt – what all the airbenders his nation had slaughtered felt – when he took those insane leaps and trusted his airbending to catch him.

Then he hit the ground in a crouch, the familiar pain shooting through his ankles dulled by experience.

Slowly rising out of his stooped position, he scanned the area (a small platform with an enormous mural of a nun carved into the stone wall, a set of stairs to the left and a corridor to the right), expecting Aang or Katara or Jet or_ someone_ to jump out at him at any second.

No one came.

Did they seriously not know someone had essentially invaded their home? Zuko knew he was good at stealth, but he wasn't even _trying_ this time. How could their security be so pathetic?

_'Because Toph can't see_,' he realized, feeling almost winded with guilt, as if Azula had snuck up and punched him in the gut. She had done that all the time when they were kids. He almost missed it; it was better than trying to kill his friends.

Well, there was no sense dwelling on it – not at that moment, especially. What he needed to focus on was making his presence known.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Zuko took a deep breath and shouted, "_Aang_!"

Listening to the syllable echo and multiply on the stone around him, he tried to calm the tightening of his chest. Every second the others didn't respond was another nightmare unfolding in his mind.

Then there was a roar and the stench of smoke as something hot and concussive slammed into his back, throwing him forward, his skin screaming. The world was topsy-turvy as he heard footsteps hurry down the corridor to his right and cackling laughter from above.

"Thank-you, dear brother –"

Heart jolting, Zuko forgot his pain, rolling from his stomach onto his back and propping himself up with his elbows. Gripping the rope he had descended from not two minutes ago was Azula, a pleased grin on her face, left arm dangling at her side with index and middle fingers still pointed as if to strike.

"– you've made my job _so_ much easier."

* * *

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	33. Chapter 33

"_Azula_," Zuko snarled, jumping to his feet. "How did you –"

"Inochi?" She raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips tugging further upward. "Did you _really_ expect me to believe that?"

Damn it! Why hadn't he thought to say something a little more subtle? Why had he even bothered trying? Lying had never been his strong suit.

Well, now he would just have to keep her at bay, hopefully guide her away from Aang –

"Who was shouting?"

– who chose that moment to appear.

"Get out of here!" Zuko yelled, just as Azula swung forward on the rope and released her grip, flipping head-over-heels in mid-air. The momentum carrying her forward added more force to the pinwheel of flame she shot out of both feet moments before landing.

Diving into the range of fire, Zuko's hands cut through the flames, dispersing it on either side. The action was followed by a well-aimed punch of fire at Azula, who – having just barely regained her footing – narrowly stumbled out of the way.

"I told you to get out of here!" he growled at Aang, who remained rooted to the spot.

"Y-you . . ." he said, eyes wide, seeming caught between fear and happiness. He settled on narrowed gaze of angry confusion. "What are _you_ doing here? And why did you bring Azula?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Zuko turned his attention to the stone staircase that Jet stood at the bottom of, saying, "He's with the _Fire_ Nation, Aang; he's here to take you to his precious Fire Lord."

"No, I –"

Something hot and blue ploughed into his chest, forcing him stumbling backward.

More fireballs followed, and it was all Zuko could do to keep up. One hit his shoulder, then another hit his hand as he made a poorly timed effort to deflect, and a third hit his knee, and then Jet chose that moment to charge at him with swords drawn.

Ducking under the first swing, he struck a foot out at Jet's shin. No sooner had he made contact than he had to turn his defences to Azula, throwing up a hasty but effective wall of fire against her next onslaught. Something that only gave Jet ample opportunity to slice his arm open.

"Why are you ganging up on _me_?" he shouted after failing to suppress a cry of agony. "Attack _her_!"

The words barely left his mouth when a torrent of water careened into Azula's side, throwing her to the ground. A thick layer of Ice formed to hold her in place.

"Jet!" Katara shouted as she ran down the corridor toward them, sleeves of water at the ready and a scowl on her face. Sokka followed close behind, carrying Toph on his back.

Holding his hands up in an "I'm-innocent" manner, Jet said, "What? What'd I do now?"

Stumbling out of his crouched position, Zuko took a few limping steps backward so he stood at Aang's side, cradling his bleeding arm. "I told you to _get away_. Azula is here for _you_."

Gray eyes staring up at him warily, Aang kept a guarded posture. "Why are you here?"

"To tell you to _hide_!"

Steam had started rising from the ice pinning Azula to the ground, and Zuko could hear it crack and pop as she struggled to break free. Meanwhile, Jet and Katara continued to argue (seemingly about an old issue) and Sokka was propping Toph up against the wall with the carving of the nun despite her loud protests about wanting to fight.

"Seriously, Aang," Zuko said, keeping his eyes glues to Azula, "_run_. Hide. You have to get somewhere safe."

But Aang remained stubborn and rooted. "I'm _not_ running. You and Toph always tell me to face my issues head-on, to take initiative, and now I'm going to."

"Aang, this is no time to start thinking liking an earthbender!"

"The last time I ran away it cost the lives of my people. The people who lived _here_." Aang strode purposefully closer to the princess as he spoke, showing no intentions of being cautious. "I'm not gonna let that happen again. If you guys are fighting, _I'm_ fighting."

On the other side of the platform-turned-battlefield, Iroh was rushing down the staircase followed closely by Mai and Ty Lee. The latter of the pair managed to reach the bottom first by leap-frogging over the other's heads, shouting, "What's going on?"

No sooner had she said the words did she land barely a meter away from Azula, who chose that moment to burst free of her restraints.

She shot upwards, letting out a roar as she ploughed a flaming fist toward Aang, who nimbly but narrowly sidestepped her strike. Summoning a burst of wind, he shoved her several feet backward toward the edge of the cliff, while the others moved in with weapons drawn, cornering her.

"I hate to agree with Zuko," Sokka said, "but you really _should_ get out of here."

Another wave of fire prevented further conversation. Katara doused the inescapable inferno with the water from her pouch, creating a thick smokescreen between them and Azula. Bursts of flame continued shooting blindly toward them, forcing Iroh, Katara and Aang onto the defensive while the others used the resultant cover to sneak closer to Azula.

Favouring one leg and clutching his injured arm, Zuko watched from a distance, trying hard not to imagine what was happening behind the smoke. It was Aang that his sister cared about; as long as he stayed visible, disaster could be prevented.

Finally, the air cleared enough to see Azula. Badly outnumbered, she struggled to keep the others at bay – for every sword strike she dodged there was a paralyzing jab to avoid; for every fire blast to counter there was a barrage of knives to deflect. It would have been awe-inspiring to watch her fight if it wasn't so terrifying. Every movement was calculated and each breath economized; the true embodiment of cold-blooded fire.

For the briefest of moments, she caught Zuko's eye. Their gazes locked, and time seemed to freeze as a smirk crawled across her lips.

Then she side-stepped a water-whip and ducked under the swing of a hook sword, all the while moving her arms in slow, precise circles. A ten-second gale knocked her off balance, but she seemed entirely focused on the cyclic motions, bringing her pointed middle and index fingers together as she began to totter back toward the canyon. The air cracked around her, and she shot her right arm out –

"_Aang!_"

Zuko barely registered the movement of his feet before he was shoving Aang out of the way with his uninjured arm, and catching the lightning with the opposite hand. There was excruciating, blinding, knock-your-breath-out-of-your-lungs pain, but he focused on the instructions echoing in his mind.

'_You must create a pathway from your fingertips up your arm to your shoulder and down into your stomach_ . . ._ You direct it up again and out the other arm._'

His arms moved accordingly, white-hot energy coursing through, following his every movement loyally.

'_The stomach detour is critical. You must not let the lightning pass through your heart_ _or the damage could be deadly._'

The briefest jolt of panic and fear consumed him as he guided the lightning to his stomach, pain building and choking until it was all he knew.

Then the bolt was shooting back out his fingers with deafening volume, leaving him tingling and dizzy and gasping. It hit the face of the carved nun mural, sending huge chunks of stone plummeting down toward Toph.

"_Watch out_!"

The words were barely out of his mouth when she swung her arms out sharply on either side. Two flat slabs of rock shot up from the earth at a harsh angle, creating a protective tent that the debris rolled off of harmlessly.

In the same instant, Azula teetered at the edge of the cliff, arms wind-milling desperately. Just as she started to slip backward, the bottomless-looking canyon seeming to suck her in, she kicked hard with both feet, using a jet of flame to propel herself up and forward, over the circle of her enemies.

She landed in a crouch beside Zuko, knocking his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick and darting toward Toph's protective stone tent before he even registered what was happening. With a flame-reinforced kick, she smashed it in a shower of splintered rock, the impact earning a half-grunt-half-gasp from Toph before she slipped into unconsciousness, body sagging against the cracked wall behind her.

"Is this important to you, Zuzu?" Azula taunted, grabbing Toph by the collar of her shirt and holding her at eye-level, causing the blind girl's head to loll forward. Noting his expression of pained horror, she smirked. "Well, then I guess it must be important to me, too."

There was barely time to register the implications of her words before she was striking, bending a massive arc of flame across the platform. Shooting jets of fire from her feet, she flew above the blaze and her opponents, grabbed the rope she and Zuko had used to rappel down the cliff side, and proceeded to propel herself upward. All the while she kept a firm grip on Toph, who hung limp like a ragdoll.

For a moment, everyone was still, the shock of the moment seeming to weigh them down like sandbags.

Then Ty Lee was darting forward, leaping out to grab onto that same rope, not giving a moment's consideration to the bottomless-looking chasm below as she shimmied her way up with expert speed.

"I'm gonna help her," Aang declared. He was making an airbending-fuelled jump over their heads before anyone could protest, a second bound propelling him out to the rope.

Staring after them, Jet's grip tightened on his hook swords and he let out a low-throated growl. Whipping around to face Zuko, he jabbed one blade toward the canyon, shouting, "Great! Now look what you've done!"

"What _I've_ done? Zuko said, eyes widening in disbelief, only to narrow into slits an instant later. "I came to _warn_ you about Azula! If you had stopped trying to kill me long enough to team up against her, this never would've happened!"

"Right, because you're not the one who _brought _her here!"

"How was I supposed to know she was following me? I sent her in a completely different direction!"

"So you _were_ working with her?" Jet asked, taking a menacing step closer.

"I -_no_! It's not -" Zuko abruptly cut off, running his fingers through his hair. He inhaled deeply before speaking again, and when he did, his tone was tense and impatient, carefully restrained anger bleeding through. "She cornered me. If I didn't tell her something, she would've killed me and found Aang on her own. I had to tell her _some_thing."

This was not turning out how he had planned at all. And he hadn't even _had_ a plan.

"Guys," Katara said, prompting them both to look over to where she stood at the canyon's edge. She was staring up at the sky, watching for something. "We've got bigger concerns right now. Like how to get up there and make sure Azula doesn't have her way with Aang and Ty Lee, too."

Jet snorted, tone and expression scathing as he said, "Should've figured _you_'d jump to his defence."

Facing him, Katara planted her hands on her hips, eyes shrinking. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, like you don't know!"

Looking between the pair, Zuko struggled to process what was happening. _Was_ Katara defending him? After all that had gone wrong because of him? Not only that; she was arguing with _Jet_ over him.

He was gone for barely more than a day and already he had no idea what was happening.

"Much as I love hearing you two bicker – which, by the way," Sokka interrupted, expression unnaturally serious, "I don't – I think we should be a little more concerned about _that_."

Everyone looked in the direction he indicated, only to see a massive hot-air balloon slowly drifting into view above their heads, climbing higher and higher into the sky. It took a second for Zuko to realize it as _their_ balloon; the one he, Iroh, Mai, and Ty Lee had commandeered to escape the prison.

Then there attention was drawn to a familiar, rumbling groan, followed seconds later by the sight of Appa swooping into view, pursuing the slow-moving ship at top speed with Aang on perched on his head. An instant later Ty Lee was sliding back down the rope and throwing herself toward the platform, swift and graceful despite her breathless and frazzled appearance.

"Azula got the war balloon, and Aang's going after her!" she squeaked as she jumped to her feet, brown eyes wide.

"We see that," Jet snapped, eyes still glued to Appa, who moved in wide circles around the balloon as the two benders traded fire-blasts, painting the heavy mist blue and red at regular intervals.

Then Appa was veering right, closer to the balloon. Aang, now a mere speck, swung his arms toward the fully-inflated envelope, hitting it with a gale of wind that sent it spinning off course. Streaks of azure shot across the space between bison and balloon as Azula struck back.

"We have to get him back down here," Katara said, hugging herself as she watched the scene unfold. "Before he gets killed."

Iroh nodded in agreement, worry-lines creasing his already-wrinkled forehead. "Azula is quite unstable right now, and I don't know that she would have the rationale to follow Ozai's orders and capture Aang alive." Glancing to Katara, then Sokka, he asked, "Do you have anything that might lure him back?"

"No," Katara sighed, worried gaze dropping to her feet.

Sokka, however, had gotten that promisingly thoughtful look on his face, one hand cupping his chin as he squinted at nothing in particular. A small smile crawled across his lips as he said, "Maybe we can't call _Aang_ back, but we might be able to convince Appa! Katara –" his hand dropped as he turned to his sister "– do you know where the bison whistle is?"

Her eyes brightened with understanding and, with a nod, she turned to dash down the corridor on their right.

"And while she's busy with that . . . ?" Jet asked. His question was obviously directed at Sokka, but he had a side-long glare locked on Zuko.

Staring up at the fight unfolding in the sky, he said, "We do whatever we can to help Aang get Toph back." As he spoke, he reached for the sheath on his back, drawing his boomerang and taking aim.

There was no chance to strike, however, because then blue fire was roaring toward Aang in a relentless onslaught, eliciting groans of pain and protest from the bison as the flames made impact. He veered away, back toward the temple, ignoring the urgent tugs on his reins that told him to do otherwise. Fire continued to rain down on them as they fled, hitting his hindquarters and skimming past his fur.

Then everyone on the platform was scrambling out of the way to make room for his crash landing, the stone floor crumbling and whole structure shaking as all ten tons collapsed onto it.

When the dust settled and Azula had disappeared into the horizon, Aang slid down from Appa's head, the beast making soft groans that seemed the bison equivalent to whimpers (Zuko hadn't thought it possible for such an enormous creature to make such a small, vulnerable sound). His face was all grim lines as he said, "He needs Katara."

* * *

Author's Notes: _I know this update is somewhat late, but hopefully it was worth the wait. Plot, omg! I've missed it, personally. xD_

_And fear not; the Zutara _will_ come. Soon. Just be patient. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	34. Chapter 34

The Avatar's team sat gathered in a semi-circle facing Appa half-an-hour later, the air heavy with the reality of their situation as they watched Katara mend his wounds.

Toph was gone, suffering through Spirits-knew-what at the hands of Azula. Appa, now their only means of transport thanks to the balloon being stolen, was injured. The Fire Nation knew exactly where they were.

Things were looking worse by the second.

Plus, there was the not-so-minor issue of Zuko being back. And while Katara was relieved to see him alive and well and holding no grudge, she couldn't say the same for the others. Especially not Jet, whose gaze had barely left the scarred boy, hands curled into fists and body tensed with distrust. If he had been getting over his prejudice before the incident with Toph's feet, then his anger had to have tripled now. And Katara didn't doubt their breaking up had something to do with it.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when the boy in question glanced over, catching her staring. Quickly, she turned her attention back to Appa. There were more important things to worry about than ex-boyfriends.

"We need to get moving," Zuko declared suddenly, breaking the silence (though certainly not the tension). Burns and bruises and cuts were still scattered all over his body, but he had yet to complain or request medical attention. Katara made a mental note to tend to him as soon as Appa was fixed up.

Shooting a glare at him, Jet snapped, "And why should we listen to you? Why are you still _here_, anyway? You led her straight to us!"

"It wasn't my intention to –"

"Well, you did."

"Guys," Aang said, the usual spirit drained from his voice and face. He looked and sounded every bit as old as the hundred and twelve years he had claim to. "Please, don't fight. Not right now."

"Don't fight?" Jet asked, eyes wide and mouth forming a snarl. Jabbing a finger toward Zuko, who sat on the opposite end of the semi-circle, he said, "If it weren't for him, we –"

"I'd be dead," Aang cut in, tone final.

His words weighed heavy in the air as they all remembered the terrifying sight of lightning charging toward their friend – their only hope. Katara couldn't help glancing over at Zuko, looking broken and weak, wondering how such immeasurable force could be turned away so easily.

"If you don't mind me saying," Iroh began, looking between the three males from where he sat beside Zuko, "I believe my nephew is right."

Jet crossed his arms, muttering, "Of course _you_ would."

If the comment was heard, Iroh did a good job of ignoring it. "Now that Azula knows where we are, my brother can use all the resources at his disposal to destroy this safe haven and us with it. If we are to have any hope of surviving until the Comet arrives, then we must find somewhere far away. And soon."

"Look, Jet; I don't like agreeing with Zuko anymore than you do," Sokka said, "but he's right. We need to move and figure out a plan to get Toph back."

"Okay, so he's right about leaving the temple. But that doesn't mean we should _trust_ him. He burned Toph's feet, _and_ he got her captured."

"Those were both accidents," Zuko said. It may have been her imagination, but Katara thought she detected a slight a tremor in his voice.

"How can we be sure of that? One accident is one thing, but two?" Jet's gaze narrowed. "We had no problems here for almost two months, and suddenly Azula knows where to find us."

"Because she's Azula."

Katara looked up so fast she almost got whip-lash. _Mai_ was speaking out. Mai had hardly even _spoken_ for weeks, and now she was arguing against Jet?

It seemed to come as a bit of a shock to everyone, judging by the silence that fell over the group. Mai paused for a beat, as if to give a moment for the surprise to settle, then continued in her even, raspy tone, "It doesn't matter that she followed Zuko here. She would've found us anyway. Azula's a hunter. Once she starts, she'll never stop."

"But – " Jet said, clearly having no intention of agreeing.

"I have an idea," Iroh cut in, palms rested on the knees of his crossed legs, smiling in a display of his legendary patience. "Why don't we settle this matter with a nice, quiet vote, hm?"

Slouching back, Jet scowled but made no further argument.

"Excellent! Now, everyone in _favour_ of letting Zuko rejoin Team Avatar – "

"See?" Sokka beamed. "Catchy name!"

"– raise your hand."

Three hands – Iroh's, Ty Lee's, and Mai's – lifted with certainty. Then, hesitant, Katara lifted hers, followed shortly by Aang. Katara couldn't help noticing how cow-owl wide Zuko's eyes got when he saw her vote in his favour, gaze darting between her and Aang as though expecting Sozin's Comet to rain down on their heads right that instant.

Thankfully, none of them met their fiery end in the three second pause following their vote.

"Five, then," Iroh said, smiling. "Now, just for formalities sake, those who are opposed to – "

Jet's hand shot into the air as he sent Zuko a look that could very well kill.

Nodding, Iroh's smile broadened. "Very well, then. Five for, one against."

"_What_?" Jet demanded, eyes almost bulging from the sockets as his gaze snapped toward Sokka. "I thought you would back me up on this!"

"Sorry," Sokka said, hands held up as he shrugged," but, I'm on the fence for this one. Not that it would make much of a difference."

"And why the _hell_ are you on the fence?"

"The guy took a bolt of lightning," he said, offering another shrug.

"Then it's settled," Aang declared with a firm nod. To Zuko, he said, "Welcome aboard. Again."

The former prince was already jumping to his feet, ignoring his injuries as he beamed and bowed, saying, "Thank-you! Thank-you so much – I promise I won't let you down again!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sokka said, waving his hand dismissively. "Pipe down, Sparky. I still got my eye on you."

". . . _Sparky_?" Zuko raised his lone eyebrow (actually, it might have been both).

"Yeah! I figure while Toph's gone, someone will have to make up for all the lost sarcasm and name calling. And I figure: who better to do it than me!"

Rolling her eyes as she got to her feet, Katara grabbed Zuko by the crook of his uninjured arm and began dragging him toward the corridor. "You should know better than to listen to my brother by now."

"Hey!" Sokka called after her, arms crossing and expression shifting into a sullen pout. "What about all my master plans? You always listen to them!"

Katara just continued to steer Zuko down the hall, hissing a reminder for him to "just ignore him".

Then they were out of earshot and alone save for the crab-rats that skittered past their feet. Shifting uncomfortably in her grip, Zuko alternated between staring straight ahead and sending her sidelong glances, expression somewhere between nervous and curious and carefully blank.

"So, uh . . ." he started, then mock coughed to clear his throat. "Wh-what, um . . . Where are you taking me?"

"To my room," Katara answered easily, relinquishing his arm and struggling not to let her nerves show. It was one of the few moments she was around him and didn't feel anger or fear or some mix of both, and she wasn't sure how to handle that or the fact that this was how things would be for the foreseeable future.

"Oh." He inched away so that there as more than a breath of space between them, but not before Katara felt a flash of heat from him at the mention of her bedroom. Sending her one of his glances, he asked, "Uh, why?"

"So I can patch you up." In her peripheral, she noticed him visibly relax. "And so we can . . . talk."

The tension returned. "About what?"

They paused, now standing in front of Katara's bedroom door. The heavy wood stared back at them, waiting for someone to reach out and swing it open, while both of them waited for the opposite person to do just that. Heat continued radiating from Zuko despite the added distance between them, mixing with the cool, stale air of the temple corridor.

Finally, Katara pulled the door open, saying, "Toph."

"Oh."

The two responses were single worded – monosyllabic – yet they both carried massive weigh.

"Look," Zuko said as he followed her across the threshold and into the room, suddenly very interested in talking, "I'm sorry. About everything – what I did to you and Aang, burning Toph's feet, leading Azula here, getting Toph ca–"

"It's not your fault."

He abruptly cut off, blinking at her as she settled onto her bed and uncorked her waterskin, watching as the liquid swirled out of the opening at her fingers' beckoning. "What?"

"I don't blame you," she repeated, now twisting the water onto one hand and patting the mattress with the other in offer for him to sit. He did, hesitantly, still eyeing her with a mix of bewilderment and carefully restrained hope. And perhaps a little fear. "Well, for the first bit I do, but that other stuff . . . Those weren't things you could predict or control."

Zuko kept a steady gaze on her as she pressed the water-coated hand to his unscarred but badly scraped cheek. The wound, along with the dozens of others marring him, now made him look an odd mix of vulnerable and intimidating. The angry hue of his scar certainly stood out more, highlighted by all the other imperfections.

"Not that I'm complaining, but . . . don't you, you know, kinda despise me?"

"And _that_'s why I wanted to talk," she sighed, letting her gaze drop. "After you left, Toph was pretty . . . upset. And we got to talking, and she ended up telling me some things." Her gaze shifted back to his face, slowly. "About you."

He drew a breath, and Katara could feel the tensing of his jaw as recognition dawned. Exhaling heavily, he turned his face away (or tried – it was hard to with her hand pressed against his cheek). It didn't go unnoticed which side he wanted to hide. "So, you –?"

"Yeah," she answered quietly, trying not to let her gaze drift to his left eye. And failing. "I know."

Letting out a sound between and growl and sigh, he muttered, "She promised not to tell."

"I didn't exactly give her much choice."

There was a pause, then the tiniest of smiles crept across his lips. "You _are_ pretty stubborn. I should know."

Then the stillness was back, quiet except for the _swish_ of water as Katara moved from Zuko's face to his forearm, pushing up his sleeve with one hand and using the other to make the severed skin stitch back together. Thinking back on her grudgeful behaviour (particularly the time she had _attacked_ him purely out of frustration), she couldn't help feeling a tiny wave of guilt as she realized how unnecessary a lot it was. All Zuko had done since arriving at the temple was try to help them, yet every time he did something especially nice, she responded with anger or violence (or often times both).

"I'm sorry," she blurted, then promptly clamped her mouth shut. This wasn't quite how she had envisioned their conversation going – though, nothing ever seemed to go as expected around Zuko.

He looked up from her hand on his arm (healing still, and probably always would, intrigued him) to her face, doing his usual surprised-blinking routine. "For what?"

"Just . . . everything. Well, some things." She stared determinedly at his arm, willing her cheeks not to redden (they did anyway). "A lot of things."

"_What_ things?"

"The way I've acted around you for the past . . . _ever_. Since you started living in the temple with us, at least. You've been nothing but nice since then, and all I could do was be completely temperamental with you. I was worse than Jet."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Zuko grinned broadly, saying, "_No one_ is worse than Jet."

"I was still awful to you."

"You had every right to be," he said, expression turning serious again in a blink. "_I_ was awful to _you_ for months. I was awful to everyone – so if anyone should be apologizing right now, it'd be me."

"You've apologized more than enough," she said quietly, palm sliding down arm and closer to his wrist, staring at the hand it was connected to and remembering how he had turned Azula's lightning away from Aang. The image, blue and flashing from light to dark as Zuko slid through seemingly familiar motions, was burned into her mind forever.

"How did you do it?" she asked. Then, realizing he wasn't following her train of thought, added, "That thing with Azula's lightning. That was incredible – and you don't even have a scratch."

"It's a technique my uncle created. Why? Does it look familiar?" He was giving her a look, like he knew some sort of secret and – was that a _smirk_ she detected?

"Yes," she said, resisting the urge to cross her arms. "Should I?"

"Well, uncle Iroh created the technique by studying waterbending, so –"

"_Seriously_?" she asked, eyes growing wide and water slipping between her fingers in the moment of shock. It splashed onto the bed, soaking through the thin sheets, and Katara scrambled to bend it back together, all the while saying, "I mean, really? You can interchange bending styles like that? Oh, and, uh, turn; I need to start on your back."

"It surprised me at first, too," Zuko said, obediently repositioning himself so he was staring at the door instead of Katara. Pausing to pull his shirt over his head, he tossed the garment to the floor and waited for Katara's soothing water to spread across the badly bruised and scraped flesh before continuing, "But obviously it's possible. Still, of all the elements to use together . . ."

There was a lull in the conversation, allowing Katara a moment to focus wholly on his wounds. The skin on his back was a raw and angry shade of red, sensitive to touch if the way he kept twitching and wincing was any indication. She worked the glowing water into his injuries with care, and couldn't help noticing there was something strange about the moment – stranger than watching skin stitch itself back together, even.

It was calm. Content.

The tension that had filled the air as though it had a physical presence every time they were together was gone, or at the very least eased to the point of being unnoticeable.

Which made it even harder for Katara to know what to do with herself. With no anger or fear or tension between them, they were both left bare and exposed, no emotional barriers left to measure the distance between them. There was nothing left to remind her she was sitting on the same bed as Zuko, the (former) prince of the Fire Nation, and if she hadn't been able to see him – didn't know his voice so well – she might have thought she was beside Aang or Sokka or Jet or anyone else whose presence was safe and familiar.

It was bizarre.

"So," Zuko said, pulling her from her thoughts. His head was bowed slightly, indicating he was probably staring at his hands folded in his lap. "What kind of stuff did Toph tell you, exactly?"

There was a very different pause, and tension (but not like she was accustomed to, not the building pressure of a bomb) trickled in to fill the space between them.

Katara swallowed, mouth suddenly feeling very dry. "She didn't go into a lot of detail, but . . . I know about the Agni Kai."

His back muscles tightened. "Right," he said tersely, clearly expecting more.

"And how your father compares you to Azula."

". . . Okay."

"And how you've spent the last three years of your life trying to make everything normal again," she finished softly, watching as the last of his bruised and broken skin healed over, no scars or scabs in sight. She kept her hands and her water right where they were, however, unsure what else to do. Certainly not tell him to turn around so she could patch up his legs, because that meant they would have to face each other again, and would be all too awkward for her tastes.

So instead she stared at his unmarred back, waiting for him to say something – _anything_ – in response.

"When I was a kid . . ." he started, low tone rumbling through him to Katara's fingertips. Pausing, Zuko lifted his head to stare at the door, and even without seeing his face Katara got the impression he was focused on something else entirely. "I don't even remember it, but . . . When I was kid – when mom was still around – things were great. Or always okay, at least. Uncle . . . He tried to tell me stories about when I was younger, to help me remember. It didn't really work, but . . . Somehow I just know everything he told me is right, that . . ."

He trailed off, head bowing again, leaving Katara to wait for an ending that wouldn't come. After a moment of still silence, she gently prodded, "That . . . what?"

"That we were a family once."

Watching his shoulders rise and fall as he let out a quiet sigh, she waited, knowing there was more to his story. It felt like hours (but was probably only a minute) before he spoke again.

"While we were in the palace, I started . . ." He hesitated, as if expecting some dire consequence for what he was about to admit, then ploughed forward. "I started getting my memories of Azula back. Old memories, from when we were really little. I remember . . . We used to always go down to Ember Island, and we'd spend hours just playing down on the beach."

Another pause, and Katara felt him take a shuddering breath, only to realize her hand had slid up from his back to rest reassuringly on his shoulder. All her water had absorbed into his skin.

"I used to actually be able to teach her stuff. You know, be a big brother. Then she started learning to walk, and talk, and she developed firebending so fast . . . Eventually it seemed like I was the little kid and needed _her_ to teach me everything."

"And now she's captured Toph," Katara said, letting the weight of this sink in for them both. If her conversations with the other girl were anything to go by, Zuko had been like the big brother Toph never had. And now the crazy sister he probably never wanted had her, and they could only wonder.

"What are we going to do?" Zuko murmured, so quiet she thought maybe he was only talking to himself. He drew another shuddering breath, and Katara heard it catch in his throat.

"I don't know," she said, equally quiet.

Then she leaned forward, wrapping both arms loosely around his neck and resting her head against his shoulder, his warmth and unsteady breathing reverberating through her. He lifted on hand to lace his fingers through hers, and they just sat, wordless.

* * *

Author's Notes: _So. Long. o.o_

_I hope you guys enjoy it!_

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	35. Chapter 35

An hour after talking with Katara, Zuko stood in his own room, a pack on his bed that was filling with his small number of possessions.

Well, at least, it was a small number compared to what he used to own during his short time reacquainted with life as a prince.

As he carefully organized the items in the bag to ensure everything would fit, he tried not to think about Toph, or Azula's cruelty, or how long they had to get her back. He also tried to forget all the things he and Katara had talked about, namely those concerning his scar and his past.

He could not, however, ignore the fact that Sokka was staring at him from his doorway. And had been for the past five minutes.

"Shouldn't you be packing, too?" he asked, gently sliding his uncle's portrait down the side of his bag.

In his peripheral, he saw Sokka shrug. "I don't have much to take with me. Besides, Appa's gonna be overloaded already."

Staring down at the things he had packed – which included, among other things, his old prison uniform (well, he had no idea what might happen while travelling with the Avatar and his crazy friends; it might come in handy!) – Zuko began to reconsider his necessities. Slowly pulling things back out and placing them on his bed, he shot Sokka a glance. "Well . . . Do you need something?"

"No."

"Then what are you doing here?"

Crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, he tilted his head slightly. "I'm trying to figure out what to think of you."

"And how does watching me pack help with that?"

"It doesn't. I just like intimidating you."

Zuko scoffed, picking up his uncle's portrait for reconsideration. "I'm _not_ intimidated by you, of all people."

"Well, you _should_ be," he said, pointing at him accusingly, than using the same hand to poke his chest with his thumb. "I'm Katara's big brother, so any interest you have in her has to make it through me first."

With a slightly bitter laugh, Zuko said, "Relax; Katara has no interest in me that way. We're just friends. And even if she _did_, do you really think she'd sit back and let you take charge of the situation like that?"

Back straightening and cheeks reddening, Sokka sputtered, "Wh-what are talking about? I' in charge! I'm in charge all the time! I'm her big brother – I always protect her!"

"Sure," Zuko said, a small grin on his lips as he placed his uncle's picture back on the nightstand, then turned back to his bed, picking up his dagger and swords. After pocketing the knife, he began strapping the twin blades to his back, adding, "Because you're the one who was kicking Azula's ass with waterbending. Right?"

"Is that all you're taking?" Sokka asked, directing his glare at Zuko's swords in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

Fingering the strap attaching the scabbard to his back, he shrugged, saying, "Yeah. I get the feeling I won't need much else."

Then he headed for the door, slipping past Sokka, who hesitated before following him down the corridor toward the platform where the fight had taken place.

"What about that picture you were looking at?" he asked, walking just a step behind him. "You're not taking that?"

Pausing at the entryway of the platform, Zuko stared at the small crowd gathered at its center, seemingly in the middle of an important discussion. Judging by the way Aang kept gesturing to Appa (who was in good health now, thanks to Katara's waterbending), it was about transportation. Glancing toward them, Iroh offered a strained smile and beckoned them to come closer.

"No," Zuko said simply. "I think I'll remember my uncle well enough on my own."

As they approached their comrades, bits of conversation floated back to greet them, revealing it to be more of an argument than a discussion.

"Aang, you are _not_ staying here while we all leave on Appa," Jet was saying, standing with arms crossed, facing the boy in question. He, along with everyone besides Aang and Iroh, had his back to the approaching teens. "And you're _definitely_ not staying behind with Zuko."

"But I need to practice fireb–"

"You need to _stay alive_!" he snapped, tone showing no room for argument.

Pausing a few feet away from the group, Zuko glanced at the back of everyone's heads, trying to discern what exactly was happening. When studying their hair revealed no clear answers, he finally spoke up. "Uh, what's going on?"

"There's too many of us for Appa to carry at once," Aang said, reaching up to pat the furry beast on his soft nose. "But we can't decide who should go on the first trip and who should wait."

"_I_ say we leave you and the other royal hotheads behind," Jet said, half-turning to glare at him.

Shooting her own sidelong glare at Jet, Katara said tightly, "But Aang _really needs_ a firebending teacher, so that's _never going to happen_."

The Freedom Fighter's scowl shifted toward her, and for a moment they were locked in a silent, "if-looks-could-kill" war. Watching them, Zuko felt the beginnings of a smile twist his lips. Even if his chances of dating Katara were questionable at best, he still enjoyed seeing Jet in worse favour than him. It was a refreshing change.

"Alright," Aang said, glancing uneasily between the former couple. "Well, what if I fly out on my own first?"

"That's even worse!" Jet snapped, now turning his glare on him. "How _stupid_ are you?"

Eyes widening, Aang shrank back the slightest bit, mouth twitching as he struggled for a response. Even Zuko was taken aback – as aggressive and good at holding grudges as Jet was, it wasn't like him to be so short with his own comrades. He couldn't help wondering if there was more bothering the rebel than he was letting on.

"Don't call him stupid!" Katara yelled, moving to stand between Jet and Zuko, hands balled into fists at her sides. "He's just trying to help! What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Wrong with _me_?" he asked, eyebrows rising as if this were a ridiculous question to ask.

"Yes –" she jabbed his chest with her index finger "– _you_. Who else?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said, gaze lifting to the sky in mock thought. Then his eyes narrowed to slits, focused back on her face. "_You_."

"Me?"

"Yes, _you_." He gave her shoulder a light shove in the same manner she had poked his chest.

Katara seemed ready to fire back an insult, but Aang grabbed her elbow, gently pulling her away from Jet, saying, "Alright, maybe that wasn't the best suggestion. But there's no need to fight! Let's just figure out how t get to the Eastern Air Temple, and then you two can talk out your problems. Alright?"

Judging by the glares Jet and Katara continued to trade, they had no intentions to simply talk out their problems. But they nodded, anyway.

"Great!" Aang said, beaming. "Now we just need to figure out how to get out of here."

"It'll definitely take two trips," Sokka said, arms crossed and weight leaned on one foot. "And there'll have to be someone to fly Appa there and back, so the loads will be uneven . . . One group of four and one group of five, pilot included.

"Aang and uncle Iroh should definitely go on the first trip," Zuko said, trying hard not to stare and Jet and Katara. His efforts were unsuccessful, as he found himself glancing at them, wondering what in the world had happened while he was away. "Aang needs the safety of an undiscovered location, and you –" he forced himself to look at Iroh instead "– said you have some people there to greet us, so you should be there to make introductions."

Iroh nodded his agreement, musing, "I suppose that makes sense . . ."

"And I'll go with you so there's someone to fly Appa back," Sokka said.

"I'll go too!" Ty Lee rushed to add, sending a flirtatious smile in Sokka's direction.

"Sounds good to me," Aang said with a shrug and a smile. Gaze darting over the others to survey their responses, he asked, "Any objections?"

"Yeah, you're –"

"From anyone _besides_ Jet?"

The teen in question first looked taken aback and annoyed at the interruption (from _Aang_ of all people!), then just plain annoyed. Nevertheless, he kept quiet.

When no one else spoke out, Aang's smile widened and he said, "I guess that's settled then. To –" he turned, arm shooting out to point at the distant horizon "– to the Eastern Air Temple!"

"Uh, actually, that's South," Sokka corrected. Gesturing toward the sun hanging in the sky at their left, he added, "_That_'s East."

"Oh." Aang turned to point in the appropriate direction. "To the Eastern Air Temple!"

From where he stood at the edge of the group, Zuko thought he heard Mai mutter, "And I'm supposed to fly with these people?"

XxXxX

The world was black and slightly throbbing.

Or it was for Toph when she woke up, at least. Her memories of the fight assembled themselves in a blurred, disorganized mess for the first few conscious minutes, making her wonder if she had fallen sleep in her rock tent, or if the lightning everyone had been shouting about had somehow hit her.

Only, that didn't quite make sense. The pain she felt was in her head, the kind of pain that came with slipping on a wet floor and bonking her head on the edge of a table. Or even the kind she experienced on the rare occasion Aang managed to knock her out of one of their makeshift Earth Rumble rings. But it certainly wasn't the pain of _lightning_. It just didn't fit the burning of being struck with the snake-like fire Zuko had described.

Plus, there were no voices. If she had been hurt or fallen asleep, she would have awoken to the usual ruckus of her friends, or to them pleading and praying she was alright. Here – wherever she was – it was complete silence aside from her own breathing.

Unless everyone else had been killed or captured by Azula and she was the only person left in the temple.

Well, the only way to find out was to _look_.

As she shifted in an effort to place her feet on something solid, it occurred to Toph that, not only was she above the ground, but her wrists and ankles were bound. With . . . _chains_?

Something definitely wasn't right.

Shifting her hands, she managed to press her fingertips to the wall behind her (it was bone-chilling metal). Soon, a world of pulsing vibrations was laid out before her, revealing that she was in a wholly unfamiliar but foreboding place.

Four metal walls surrounded her, as did a metal floor and ceiling. If there was earth beneath it, then whoever had built the place did a fantastic job of concealing it. The cell seemed to be isolated, with no clear signs of other rooms nearby and one lone guard posted at the door.

Wait, no – two. Someone (a girl?) had just stepped into her range of sight, moving toward the guard with purposeful strides.

It only took a second for Toph to recognize her, stomach sinking.

"How is the prisoner?" Azula asked in her usual commanding tone. When Aang had tried to describe Koh the Face Stealer to her that was the voice she always imagined it having. "Has she gotten her first dose yet?"

"N-no, princess. I d-don't believe she's awake. "

"Well, _check_. I need her nicely disoriented if I'm to get any information out of her."

The guard stuttered obediently, and Toph felt him fumble for the keys on his belt.

It could _not_ be this easy! Were they really about to open the door and invite themselves in for some ass-kicking? Not even The Boulder was _that_ stupid.

Then again, how could they know the greatest earthbender in the world was also the only metalbender?

Concentrating on the small impurities in her cuffs, Toph balled her hands into tight fists, feeling the metal buckle at the motion. Then she sharply uncurled her fingers, popping each cuff open and sending her sprawling to the floor. Pain shot through her feet (maybe they weren't as recovered as she had thought) and Toph winced as she pushed herself upright.

A nervous laugh drew her attention outside the door. Focusing on the pulse of metal beneath her, she noted that the guard was hesitating – he had the key in and turned, but made no move to actually open the door.

"I-I guess she must be awake now," he said, voice trembling nervously in time with his hand.

"Well, go put her _back_ to sleep, then."

The door cracked open, and Toph seized her chance.

Still kneeling, she made a sharp pushing motion at the door, sending it swinging from its hinges and slamming into the guard. Azula, who had been standing to the side, looked at the door pinning him to the wall for a single, bewildered second before turning to the cell with her fists blazing.

Grunting, Toph dug her fingers into the floor, feeling it buckle as she pulled hard, yanking it out from under Azula like a rug while simultaneously creating a shield against the onslaught of fire. The metal was already heating up like an oven in the short time it took Toph to notice the thick concrete it had hidden.

Pressing both palms to the cool, solid surface, she twisted her wrists and pushed, drilling her way into the earth. Slipping into the resultant hole, taking care not to put any pressure on her tender soles, she proceeded to burrow her way through the ground until she was behind Azula, who – judging from the sharp pulses shooting down toward her – was walking into the cell.

"Now, you filthy _peasant_," Azula spat, stopping inches from the protective shield of metal Toph had hauled up.

She never got to finish the statement.

Bursting open concrete and iron above her, Toph hurled the resultant debris at the princess, grinning in satisfaction at the vibrations the impact made. As Azula reeled, she planted both hands on the edges of the hole and hoisted herself out, grunting, "Actually, I'm pretty high-class myself."

Then, with a few precise twists of her wrists, the already torn metal at Azula's feet peeled away from the ground in strips, two looping around each of her wrists while a third bound her feet. A fourth looped through the cuffs on her wrists, imbedding itself into the concrete so she was forced to stand in an awkward, bent position.

"_You_!" Azula spat, heart rate erratic.

"Yeah, me," Toph said with a shrug and a smirk. "I'm pretty amazing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some friends to find."

Pausing to reassess her surroundings, Toph turned to the right and began the laborious crawl to the door. If she could just get out of this dungeon or prison or whatever, she could find a nice healer in some little town somewhere and get some salve for her burns before heading back to the temple to find the others.

Azula, however, seemed to have an entirely different view of things.

"Well, where do you expect to go" she grunted, struggling against her makeshift bindings. "There are guards everywhere and you're clearly injured."

"I handled you pretty well, didn't I?"

"I was one, ill-prepared person. What if you were to encounter three or four guards? Surely you couldn't pull this trick on _all_ of them." There was a shift in her posture, an effort at nonchalance despite her uncomfortable (not to mention humiliating) position. "Besides, how will you ever get back to the Avatar? How do you even know if he's stayed in the same place or not?"

Hesitating at the door, Toph tried to shove down the doubt those words created. She was the _Blind Bandit_ – what were a few guards to take out? What would a little wandering hurt? Even if she couldn't find Aang and the others, she could sure as heel create her own path of destruction across the Fire Nation!

Yeah. Everything would be fine; she could take care of herself, _by_ herself.

. . . But what about the Comet? The invasion? She wanted to be there, caught in the middle of the action, sending the Fire Lords goons flying with a stomp of her foot, she wanted to feel the close brush of fire as she fought side-by-side with her friends, hear their awe at the Comet, be there while everything came together while at the same time falling apart. She wanted to know she would see her friends again.

And where better to wait for them than with the Fire Lord and princess?

"You know what?" she said, shifting so she sat on her knees. "I'm getting kinda sick of Twinkle Toes and those dunder-heads."

"_Re_ally?" Azula asked, voice rising on the first syllable in a combination of doubt and intrigue.

"Yeah. They were always holding me back, being all slow and meek and step-by-step with this whole 'stop-the-war' scheme. I say, 'You snooze, you lose!'." Turning to look in the general direction of Azula, Toph grinned, asking, "Mind if I crash here 'til this whole thing's over? I don't exactly care who wins."

As the words left her mouth, she braced for something awful – death by fire-breath, a villainous cackle, to be mocked into oblivion. After all, it was a very stupid, ill-thought-out plan, one that a plotting mastermind like Azula would easily see through, even without being able to read heartbeats.

But something in her seemed to shift – her posture tensed then relaxed, a small breath caught in her throat, blood pressure lowering like someone who had just been petting Momo.

And then she said one phrase that knocked Toph's proverbial socks off:

"I don't see why not."

* * *

Author's Notes: _Hope you guys enjoy this, and I'm sorry for the delay! =D_

**Dislcaimer:**** "Avatar: the Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	36. Chapter 36

Jet was awakened by a stifled scream.

His first instinct would've been to grab the twin hook-swords he always kept close by and jump to his feet, ready to fight off the threat. However, he distinctly recognized the sound as coming from Zuko, who he didn't like. At _all_.

So instead he rolled over to face the former prince (but still a firebender; _always_ a firebender), peering at him through his eyelashes while still feigning sleep.

No one else was there. It was just Zuko, sitting upright with his knees pulled up against his chest and his head supported in his hands. His breath came in gasps, as if he had recently fended off an entire battalion on his own, and Jet could see sweat glistening in the moonlight, coating his arms and forehead.

"Zuko?" Katara mumbled, shifting in her sleeping bag. She had picked a spot between the two boys, clearly hoping to prevent any late-night strangling. All of them – even Momo – were camped out on the platform where they had been attacked, deeming it wiser to sleep together in the open than in the solitude of their own rooms in the event of another ambush.

"I'm fine," Zuko whispered, quickly adjusting his position so as not to look vulnerable. "Go back to sleep."

"You're lying," she said, voice low but sure as she propped herself up on her elbows. "What's wrong?"

"It was just another nightmare."

Lying perfectly still and silent, Jet watched as Katara crawled closer to Zuko, dragging her sleeping bag with her. Envy stabbed at his heart, red-hot like a firebender's knife. It only got worse as she sidled up close, resting a hand on his shoulder and listening – head bent ever-so-slightly – as Zuko explained his aforementioned nightmare.

"It was the same as before, just . . . _worse_."

"What happens?"

It was quiet for a moment. When Zuko finally spoke, Jet was startled into realizing he had been close to falling back to sleep.

"I'm facing my father in the Agni Kai," he said quietly, "but then I turn _into_ him and Long Feng's there and . . ." There was the shudder of a deep breath. "The fire turns into the Comet. And I'm by myself, on top of a mountain, watching as it crashes down and you're all powerless to stop it. It kills Aang – just _crushes_ him. And I can hear Azula laughing right behind me the whole time, and I know she has Toph but I just _can't find her_."

He paused, taking another deep breath. Somewhere in the distance, a cricket-owl chirped and hooted.

When it became clear Zuko had nothing left to say, Katara spoke in that gentle voice reserved for comforting. "We'll find her, Zuko. We will."

As they continued talking in hushed voices ("It's Toph; she'll probably bust _herself_ out –" " – And come out of nowhere to save _us_?"), Jet pondered Zuko's obvious concern for the younger girl. They had always seemed close over the many weeks spent in the temple, though he could hardly imagine _why_. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew it couldn't be a clever plot to earn the group's trust on Zuko's part; Toph would see through it in . . . well, a heartbeat.

Maybe it was a rich-kid-runaway thing.

Whatever the reason, it both irritated and fascinated him. If he could understand why Zuko and Toph, of all people, were so close, then maybe he could understand why anyone else would want to be his friend.

Especially Katara.

"What's with him, anyway?" Zuko asked quietly, pulling Jet from his thoughts. It only took a second to realize who he was talking about.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Katara said, "I think he's just upset over the break-up. But don't change the subject! There's more to this nightmare of your s and I know it."

A powerful mix of emotions knifed through Jet's chest. So Zuko's twisted dreams were more important than his own problems? Breaking up was one thing, but now it seemed like she didn't even _care_.

They continued talking in whispers, voices so low it seemed they didn't even want the long-dead air nomads to hear. After what seemed to be an eternity of soft conversation and heart-stabbing pain, Katara suggested they go into the kitchen for some extra-early breakfast and tea. The pair soundlessly got to their feet, careful not to wake anyone as they left the makeshift campsite. Katara let a few giggles slip, whispered something about the Blue Spirit needing a partner in crime.

When they disappeared from sight, Jet found himself sitting upright and longing to follow. He needed to know what that firebender was doing to Katara – what she was _letting_ him do. Everyone in the temple knew about Zuko's feelings for Katara, and he didn't believe for one second that the other teen had given up his pursuit of her, no matter what he may have claimed to the contrary.

"They wake you up, too?"

The voice nearly made Jet jump out of his skin. His gaze snapped over to Mai, who lay on his other side a good distance away. She was still in her sleeping bag, rolled onto her side so she could face him.

Scowl slipping into place, he muttered an irritated, "Yes."

The silence that seeped in to fill the space between them was awkward – _very_ awkward – and Jet couldn't help noticing that Mai was staring at him. It was hard to tell why, given her usual blank-slate expression, and it was more than a little disconcerting. Her Fire Nation status didn't help matters, either.

"What?" Jet asked, eyes narrowed into a glare.

The girl in question just blinked up at him slowly and offered a small shrug of her shoulders. Her lips remained firmly shut, no syllable of explanation escaping.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked instead, hoping a more specific question would yield better results.

No such luck; Mai barely even blinked. For a moment, he wondered if she had fallen asleep with her eyes open.

"Whatever," he grumbled, getting to his feet. "You go back to sleep, I'll stay up and keep watch." He muttered a comment about sleeping near firebenders under his breath, not certain he really wanted to be heard. Everyone was against him already, anyway.

Picking up a stick from the pile of kindling they had gathered earlier, he approached the dying fire. Before he could stoke the coals, however, the smouldering embers burst to life on their own, flames leaping up as if they had never gone out. Stumbling backward, Jet whipped around to face the corridor where Zuko now stood.

"You tried to burn me!"

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, hesitating before moving closer. "I didn't see you. Are you –"

"I'm fine," Jet cut in, scowling. "Just go to sleep."

"Actually, I was going to stay up and keep watch," Zuko said, rubbing the back of his neck and offering a nervous smile. Katara, who had been following close behind, nodded and added, "He's, uh . . . He's having trouble sleeping."

"I'm not sleeping knowing there's a firebender awake next to me. _I'll_ keep watch."

"You're not losing sleep if you don't need to," Zuko said firmly, eyes narrowing as his lips pulled into a slight frown. The light from the fire in contrast with the black night made his scar look more prominent, gold eyes glinting.

"I won't be sleeping anyway."

"Well, what makes you think _I _can sleep any better knowing_ you're _awake? It's not exactly a secret that you want me dead!"

"Here's an idea," Mai cut in, the slightest edge in her tone. "Why don't you both keep watch? None of us can sleep if you keep arguing."

The two boys looked at her for a moment before returning to glaring at each other. They both growled a reluctant "Fine", then stalked off to sit watch on opposite sides of the platform.

Even from the distance he sat at, Jet could hear Katara sigh – picture her shaking her head – as she muttered, "This is gonna be a long trip . . ."

Even Mai hummed in agreement.

XxXx

"I'll be back with the others as soon as I can," Sokka said from on top of Appa's head, the reins ready in his hands. Flicking them, he commanded, "App, yip-yip!" and took off into the sky.

Watching them slowly shrink into the horizon, Aang tried to swallow the worry building in his throat. Toph would be fine – she had to be; always was. She had faced so much already during their travels, so surely she could survive whatever Azula would dish out.

Who was he kidding? Azula was the _worst_ _person_ they had ever had to fight – or, more often than not, _run_ from.

And there was Jet and Zuko to worry about, too. They were both just so . . . _angry_. With each other, the world – _every_thing. But Aang thought of them both as dear friends (family, even), and he knew Zuko was trying to improve even as Jet got worse; knew just how good a person Jet was deep down, when his hatred for firebenders wasn't overshadowing everything else. They could get past their issues – Aang believed anyone could change. It was a more a matter of how long it would take and what were they going to destroy in the process.

Plus, there was the small matter of Katara. Just thinking about her brought the slightest of smiles to his face. Maybe, now that there wasn't a boyfriend in the way . . .

"Avatar Aang?" Iroh said from behind him, calling him back to the present. Turning, he saw the old man looking at him with concern; head tilted slightly, the wrinkles on his face suddenly looking larger and more plentiful. "Are you ready to meet your new teacher?"

"Sure."

It was a lie, one Toph would've called him on in a second. But what else was he supposed to do? Much as he would've liked to grab his glider and fly back to his iceberg for another century or so, he had a duty that required him to protect his friends and the world and the future. A duty that required he learn a lot of things and face scary people, and maybe learn scary things from scary people.

At least he was in an Air Temple. A person had to be at least a little bit okay to live in an Air Temple.

Iroh guided Aang through the familiar structure, moving with a sense of purpose that surprised him. He had always seemed so relax and jovial, it was strange seeing him serious – almost military-like.

They stopped at a doorway blocked with a heavy curtain, which Iroh gestured for him to open. Reaching out, he parted the flaps of grey, dusty fabric, surprised when he saw a group of familiar faces waiting inside. Bumi, Pakku, Piandao (a Fire Nation man who had taught Sokka swordsmanship during their travels), and Jeong Jeong were all assembled around a giant Pai Sho board similar to the one in the Western Air Temple. They looked up as he entered, offering smiles and nods of their heads to welcome him.

There were also unfamiliar faces – a middle-aged woman with long, black hair and fair skin who sat with the kind of stiff-backed posture that gave the impression of regal –ness. She glanced up at him briefly, only for her expression to crumple in disappointment, as if she had expected someone else. There was also an old man (_very_ old) who was thin and bony to the point that Aang could almost count what ribs were visible under his single-shouldered, yellow robe. He had dark, leathery skin and a long white beard.

"Aang, I would like you to meet the White Lotus Society."

* * *

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.**


	37. Chapter 37

The temple and its safety dropped far below Mai, Jet, Zuko, Katara, and Sokka, leaving them to trust that a six-legged, ten-ton bison would keep them from plummeting to their deaths.

Mai wondered why everything seemed to work out that way with these people. Maybe it just came with the territory of being "heroes".

"How are things at the other temple so far?" Katara asked her brother, both of them seated on Appa's head. Zuko sat close by, albeit far enough away that Sokka wouldn't be wary.

"I'm not sure; I left as soon as I dropped them off," he said, staring straight ahead at the mist surrounding them. "I was worried Azula might pay another visit."

Something in Katara seemed to dim, her whole body sagging even as she said, "Good point. I doubt we would've been able to fend her off on our own."

It was silent for a moment. Well, not _silent_ – the wind still roared in their ears, and Appa periodically grumbled, sending vibrations reverberating through them. It surprised Mai to realize the sensation reminded her of Toph, and that she actually sort of _missed_ the obnoxious girl

"We'll find her," Zuko said, and for a moment she felt the faintest flicker of hope that he had read her mind, that maybe he had lied when he said he cared nothing for her all those weeks (months? It was hard to keep track of time) ago.

Then she saw he was actually talking to Sokka, who was in an uncharacteristically sullen mood as the reality of their situation weighed down on them.

Or maybe it was directed at Katara, who had just moved back on Appa to sit beside him instead of her brother, and sat with her knees hugged to her chest. If the low grumble of disapproval she heard from behind her was any indication, Jet was leaning more toward the latter explanation.

Turning to face him (it was a welcome distraction from Zuko putting a comforting hand on Katara's shoulder), Mai took a moment to study him. He sat as far back on Appa as he could without risking falling off, so that he was considerably far even from Mai's "middle seat". His arms were crossed, and his face was twisted in a scowl, and Mai thought maybe she recognized the expression – but not because it was the only one he seemed able to make anymore. It wasn't just the lines drawn across his face that looked familiar, it was something . . . _deeper_.

But, being who she was, Mai couldn't understand it much further than that. Any explanation of how or why it was familiar (or why she _cared_) was lost on her, and yet . . . she almost wanted to know.

Not that she expected Jet to readily explain whatever complex assortment of emotions he was feeling. Especially not to _her_.

Still. There had to be some way to get it out of him.

"It's quiet," she heard Zuko say softly. His hands were folded in his lap, though he still sat uncomfortably close to Katara. There was a pause during which only the wind filled their ears, as if to emphasize his statement.

"Toph would know what to say," Katara said, staring at her palms resting on her knees with heavy lidded eyes. "She'd probably make fun of all of us for acting like this."

"Probably call us a bunch of jelly-boned wimps," Sokka chimed in.

The silence fell again like the heavy silk sheets Mai's mother had always insisted on, even in the height of summer. Her mind reeled – at the strange sadness of the blind girl's absence, and at the flood of ideas the thought of her brought.

Maybe Jet wouldn't willingly tell her what she wanted to know, but Toph had proved time and time again how effective a little prying could be.

Besides; she was looking for a new hobby.

XxXx

It seemed that living with Azula came with a few conditions.

For starters, Toph had to be in the near vicinity of at least a dozen guards at any given time, thanks to her little display of power back in her cell. Second, she had to wear shoes with thick soles that she could barely feel the slightest vibration through (though she was quick to pop the soles out as soon as she had the chance; no one would know the difference so long as she didn't give them good reason to look closely). Lastly, she had to have her hands cuffed, if only because breaking out of the iron binds would serve as warning for when she intended to strike.

There were other conditions, too, such as bathing regularly and only belching/picking her ears when she was alone (or as alone as one could be when surrounded by twelve guards all the time), and never addressing Ozai unless she was addressed first. Not that Azula planned to bring her to the Fire Lord. She wasn't _that_ stupid.

So, being Azula's houseguest was a lot of work. Honestly, she was even stricter than Toph's _parents_.

But Toph had a plan, and the only way to carry that out was through the palace. She was going to sabotage their invasion of Ba Sing Se from the inside using all of the limited resources she had at her disposal.

Which was why she was now standing in Azula's bedroom, requesting a tour of the palace so she could gather intel and possibly use her earthbending and metalbending to subtly destroy things. Something that proved incredibly difficult to convince Azula of.

"Look, I'm not on Twinkle Toes' side anymore," she insisted, scowling – frustrated – in the general direction of the princess, who was currently seated at her vanity. "I have no reason to do anything wrong, and I _can't_ with all these safety measures."

"I just don't see the point in giving a _blind_ girl a tour."

It was hard to resist grinning at the blind comment; clearly, her shoe trick was working as expected. Truthfully, despite the injuries on her feet, her ability to see and walk hardly suffered. The burns _were_ pretty awful, and it had been difficult to stand – let alone walk – at first, but the initial pain was a lot worse than the injury actually was. She was able to adjust well enough that she wasn't bed-ridden or reliant on others carrying her, though she still had to walk rather gingerly.

Nonetheless, her sight was virtually unaffected, so long as the persisting ache didn't distract her.

And, well, if push came to shove, she could just use her hands.

So she just shrugged and said, "Oh, you'd be surprised what you can learn about a place just by getting a feel for the size and the shape. Sense of space is _very_ important."

This, however, didn't seem to convince Azula.

"Guards? Sit her down. I want a good look at the bottoms of her feet."

Before Toph could do anything in protest, three guards grabbed her and hauled her over to the bed, where they threw her down and grabbed both her ankles. They held her feet up for Azula to examine. Toph thrashed in their grip, trying to escape to no avail.

"My," Azula said, prodding the bare sole of Toph's foot with one of her talon-like nails. "So you tore the bottoms from your shoes? Clever. But it won't exactly _help_ you – there are plenty more shoes to replace these with, and certainly ones that are more _durable_."

"Well, I can't see very well, anyway, since I've got these awful burns," Toph lied quickly, still trying to pull her foot free from the guards' grip.

"Then why did you break the soles out of your shoes?"

"Because it hurt my burns. I'm not used to wearing things on my feet, so they hurt me anyways, and these burns only make it worse."

There was a pause, leaving Toph to hold her breath and wonder if she was going to be killed. As much experience as she had detecting lies, she had no idea what kind of _visual_ cues she might be giving off to reveal her deceit, or if the lie was even believable in the first place.

Then: "Well, I don't _care_ about your sore feet! Guard –" one of the men holding Toph's feet "– go fetch her a new pair of shoes."

A breath of relief and disappointment escaped Toph. At least she was still alive – who knew what kind of punishment Azula would inflict on her had she been caught. She would just have to approach the problem different angle.

Or appeal to a different person.

"So I can get the grand tour, right?"

Azula breathed an impatient noise, but was otherwise unaffected as she said, "Fine. But you are not to enter the throne room, the war room, or father's bedroom. Understood?"

The last part seemed to be directed at the guards, but Toph answered anyway. "Got'chya."

XxXx

Later, when the guard had returned with a new pair of shoes for her and Azula had watched to ensure they were put on her properly, Toph was allowed her requested tour. She was led out of the room – the guards keeping their hands on her arms and shoulders, as if to restrain her at any moment – and guided down the corridor. As they walked, Toph made a mental map of the path they took, straining to feel vibrations through the soles of her shoes. The dull thrums were clear enough for her distinguish each doorway and turn, and she plotted them in her mental map accordingly.

But she had yet to see anything of use to her. Her vision was too obscured to see into the surrounding rooms, so anything nearby was lost on her. What she needed was to get in close – find a way to get into an armoury or bunker or _something_. If she could get close enough, maybe she could damage it and leave the royal family at that much more of a disadvantage.

"So," Toph said to one of the men surrounding her. He stiffened, and she could almost hear him swallow. "Worst case scenario: the palace gets attacked. Where do I go?"

"W-well, I-I'm not sure the p-princess would –"

"What? Save me?" She stopped in her tracks at this point, forcing all the guards to do the same. Crossing her arms, she continued, "I'll have you know that Azula and I are pretty good friends now."

"B-but, she said –"

"Of course she said! I used to be her _worst_ _enemy's_ best bud; she's gotta keep up some precautions for daddy's sake. Now –" she let a grin slide across her lips, cocking her head slightly "– do I have to go tell my _friend_ you've been giving me a hard time, or are you gonna do as I say?"

The guard and his comrades shuffled nervously, probably exchanging glances in the silence that followed. Finally, the first guard stammered a reluctant, "As you wish."

Which is how Toph found herself in the hangar for the Fire Nation palace's war balloons and airships, a sea of deflated envelopes and sky-ready buckets of metal.

And the perfect place to sabotage.

As the guards explained standard evacuation procedure, Toph examined the inner workings of the flying machines, running her fingers along the metal hulls (she had also convinced the guards to remove her handcuffs, at least for her walk). Breaking any random part wouldn't do – it had to be enough to keep them from getting airborne, but subtle so that it could go unnoticed until it was time for take-off. Better yet, she needed to do something different to each ship to make it look less planned.

So, one by one, she tinkered with each ship using slight movements of her fingers, toes, and head, unable to keep from smiling with each successful attempt at destruction. By the time they left, she had effectively damaged a quarter of the ships in the hangar.

Suddenly, the odds were seeming a lot more even.

* * *

**Disclaimer****: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	38. Chapter 38

By the time Sokka returned to the Eastern Air Temple with Appa and the others, Aang had been training under Guru Pathik for well over a day. Despite assurance that unlocking the chakras could be done in a day or two, he still showed no signs of progress (as far as Zuko could see, anyway). Reminding him that the Comet was coming in just a few _weeks_ didn't seem to help matters. If anything, it made them _worse_.

Zuko didn't know _why_ Aang was choosing then of all times to rebel, but he didn't exactly care, either. The kid had a duty to the safety of the entire world; whatever else was bothering him was pretty unimportant in comparison.

What was even more frustrating was that he himself had next to nothing to do anymore. Aang had almost mastered firebending, so there wasn't much more to train him in, and having so many people living in one place meant the workload was more spread out. He couldn't even kill time _scrubbing floors_!

All this frustration and he hadn't even been in the temple for five hours yet.

"Ah, Zuko!" Iroh cried when he found the teen in his new room. Hurrying over to where he lay on his bed, he said, "I've been looking everywhere for you! Why are you here, sulking in your room on such a beautiful day?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" he muttered, staring up at his ceiling. Light spilled across him through the window beside the bed, butter yellow and comfortably warming the otherwise chill stone room.

"I hear one of the old communal bathrooms has been set up as a spa," Iroh said, sly grin hinting at something less than innocent. "I believe Miss Katara was looking to go for a swim . . ."

Managing an eye roll, Zuko tersely said, "Uncle, _no_. I told you I'm not chasing her anymore."

"Well," he said, sounding slightly disappointed (his nephews' refusal was likely a setback to whatever grand scheme he had put together). "If you're not interested in that, you should at least come meet the White Lotus members."

"They greeted us when we arrived," Zuko said, draping his forearm over his eyes. "Remember?"

"Aah, but there's still one you've yet to meet."

Lifting his arm to peek out at his uncle, he saw the twinkle in his eye and sly smile on his lips and quickly realized he had no choice in the matter. A sigh. "Fine. Where are they?"

And so Zuko found himself standing outside one of the temple's meditation rooms, staring at the heavy beige drapes hung across the doorway. Something about them made him apprehensive to enter, the steady breathing coming from inside seeming impolite to interrupt.

"Go on," Iroh pressed, gently nudging his nephew forward. "She's expecting you."

She? It was a woman? Zuko wracked his brain, trying to think of a woman he knew – or had at least heard of – that would be interested in him. No one came to mind. Then again, he hadn't been overly familiar with any of the other White Lotus members, either.

Well, he would only find out who she was if he talked to her, so he pushed the flap of fabric aside.

Her back was to him; all he could see was long, black hair, some of it bunched up to form a topknot. In front of her sat a row of candles, their flames making the small room comfortably warm. They didn't flicker in time with her breathing, a sure sign that she wasn't a firebender.

Stepping inside, he let the flap fall heavily behind him, hoping the sound would be enough to alert her to his presence.

"Zuko?" she asked, remaining statue-still in her meditative position.

Her voice nagged at the far corner of his mind. He tried to ignore it. "Yeah. It's me."

In one smooth motion the woman was on her feet and facing him. The room was small, and she only needed to take one step to be close enough to throw her arms around him. Caught off guard, Zuko stood awkwardly, arms hanging at his sides while he waited for her to release him.

Finally, she stepped back, one hand moving to his shoulder as the other shifted to cradle his scarred cheek. Her pale gold eyes studied him tearfully. "You've grown."

"Who . . . ?" A flicker of something – memory? – passed through his mind. Brow furrowing, he tried to place the woman's face; something about her was definitely familiar, if he could only figure out _what_.

"You . . . You don't remember" she asked, voice barely above a whisper as her whole expression fell. "I know you were young, but . . . Zuko. It's _me_."

An image flashed – _shadows and a cloak; "Never forget . . ."_ – then it was gone just as fast. Pinpricks of pain began to pierce his temples, but he could only shake his head. "I'm sorry."

Before she could say anything more, Iroh poked his head through the flaps of fabric, beckoning the woman. With one last confused, hurt look at Zuko, she slipped past him into the well-lit corridor.

The fabric fell back in place, plunging him into relative darkness. Along the back wall, the candles flickered weakly.

Maybe a little meditation was in order.

XxXx

"I don't understand," the woman said, looking back at the meditation room remorsefully. "How could he forget?"

Placing a consoling hand on the small of her back, Iroh guided her down the hall, saying, "It's not just you he's forgotten. After an incident back in Ba Sing Se, he was brainwashed to forget everything connecting him with the Fire Nation. He recovered, but . . . it's been a long and painful process for him, trying to regain all his memories."

"What do we do?" she asked, hugging herself. "How do I make him remember me again?"

"I'm sorry," Iroh said with a slight shake of his head. Those words were quickly becoming the woman's least favourite. "The only thing you can do is wait. The more time you spend with him, the sooner his memories will return. Though . . ."

She turned to him, expression lightening hopefully. Was he saying there was an alternative? Some way to speed the process?

"I'm not sure how quickly he will be able to recall you. It's been so long since he's seen you . . . Those memories were buried deep to begin with."

Her entire being deflated – mind, body, and spirit – as if she was a balloon and his words were a pin.

Not to say that she didn't think she deserved it. After the crime she had committed, the way she had abandoned Zuko and Azula . . . She didn't even deserve to be in the White Lotus, reunited with Iroh. If the punishment had been up to her, she would have forced herself to endure the worst possible torture, constantly reminding her of what she had done.

A son forgetting his own mother seemed rather fitting.

Iroh, seeming to read her thoughts, nodded his head in the general direction of the kitchen, saying, "Come. I'll brew you some soothing tea."

XxXx

Sitting on the stone steps in the Eastern Air Temple's courtyard watching Jet practice with his hook-swords, Mai realized she had no idea how Toph did it.

How was it that the annoying earthbender could just walk up to someone and say exactly the right thing to piss them off? Watching Jet, Mai couldn't think of _anything_ to say, aggravating or otherwise. Maybe she needed to be more personable. Maybe (_definitely_) this was a stupid idea.

But that didn't mean she could give up on it. Anytime she looked at his face and saw that implacably familiar scowl, she knew she would go out of her mind with curiosity if she didn't drag the answers from him. Maybe she already had lost her mind.

Not that she would let anyone know that. She was still the picture of composure.

That being said, there was still the tricky matter of tapping into her inner-Toph. What she needed to do was focus; what, above all else, upset Jet?

It surprised her how readily she came up with the answer: Zuko and Katara.

"Is there a problem?" Jet finally asked, not sounding concerned so much as annoyed.

At least it gave her an opening to speak. Figuring out how to start the conversation would've almost been harder than figuring out a topic.

"Just wondering how you're holding up."

"To what?" he asked, taking the bait as he set down his hook-swords on the steps a few metres away. "Toph?"

"There's that," she said, then paused. Counting out the seconds before he responded, she watched him pull off his shirt (the kind a peasant – maybe a rice farmer – would wear, in a deep shade of red), using it to wipe the sweat from his face. It was hard not to notice that he had a build similar to Zuko's; maybe it had something to with all that sword training.

She tried to keep her eyes on his face.

"And?" he finally asked impatiently, tossing his shirt down beside his hook-swords.

"And I imagine it must be hard for you, seeing Zuko and Katara so close. Especially after the way she rejected you."

His back was to her now as he took long gulps of water from the canteen he had brought with him. It was disconcerting, making Mai wonder if her plan was working after all. Usually Toph had them snapping right away . . .

Maybe he just needed a little more pushing.

"I wonder what they're doing right now," she said as she rose to her feet, crossing her arms and staring off in the general direction of the bathroom-turned-spa. "I heard Katara wanted to go swimming and was looking for some company." When this failed to draw his anger, she decided a little elaborating on the truth might be in order and added – in a slow, thoughtful drawl, "The door was locked when I went through, so maybe she and Zuko are –"

Jet was in her face before she had even finished her thought.

Standing dangerously close with his face contorted in rage, he yelled, "You _shut your mouth_! You know nothing about her! _Nothing_!"

Mai struggled to keep her usual steady and unflinching demeanour, focusing on Azula's terror in contrast to his. This was nothing compared to what she had learned to deal with daily. Inhaling slowly, she spoke in perfect monotone. "But I know plenty about him."

Grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, Jet pulled her closer until they were nose to nose. "What do you mean? What's he doing to her?"

"Nothing she didn't ask for," Mai said, struggling to keep the wince out of her voice. "He has a way about himself when it comes to that sort of thing."

XxXx

"Hey, I, uh, heard you were looking for some company."

Lying back in the huge in-ground tub of the revamped communal bathroom, Katara slowly opened her eyes to look up at Zuko. He stood on the opposite side of the tub, cheeks slightly red and gaze turned on anything but her. It was hard not to smile.

"Zuko?" she said, prompting him to glance at her briefly. "I'm in my training clothes – it's safe to look."

"Oh. Right."

Sitting upright, she used her bending to stir up what little suds they had been able to spare for such a luxury, asking, "So what brings you here? Iroh told me you weren't in the mood for swimming."

"Most firebenders aren't," he said, lowering himself into a crouch and peering down at his soapy, distorted reflection.

"So . . . ?"

"There's just . . . something I'm trying to figure out. Next to uncle, you're the best person to talk to about it."

"Aw." She crossed the tub to sit directly in front of him. "Where's Iroh?"

"He's off talking to . . ." he trailed off, brow furrowing to form a troubled expression. Frowning, he murmured, "She never told me her name."

"Who?"

"This woman I was talking to a little while ago. She seems familiar somehow, but I have no idea who she is."

Studying his expression, Katara couldn't help wondering what exactly was going on in his mind. Having so many missing memories must have been hard, not to mention bizarre – she couldn't imagine waking up one day and finding a gaping hole in her past. If only there was some easy fix, some magic cure for all the damage the Dai LI had done.

More than anything, she wished her waterbending could help.

And it could, to a certain degree. But she couldn't use it to just pull all his memories up from wherever they were being hidden and piece them all back together. They had to be fighting to resurface already, and her water could really only treat the physical symptoms distracting him from proper recall.

Waterbending was just salve on a burn that still needed time to fully heal.

"Has anything come up yet?" she asked, resting her forearms on the side of the tub. "Memories, I mean."

"I –" he paused, eyes narrowed in concentration. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Maybe. I'm not sure."

"Well . . . If anything comes up, you can talk to me. Okay?"

Zuko offered a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Thanks."

Then he rose to his feet, turned, and left the room, steps slow and preoccupied by thought. Watching him go, Katara sighed and allowed herself to sink deeper into the water.

XxXx

Jet stared at Mai with that same twisted expression, mouth pulled into an ugly frown and eyebrows drawn together. At least he had finally let her go and taken a step back. Having him literally breathing down her neck had made the whole cool-and-collected thing hard to maintain.

"Katara'd never fall for one of his tricks," he said, seeming more concerned with convincing himself than Mai. Traces of worry and jealousy were everywhere in his voice and face – even she could see that.

Crossing her arms, she shrugged, mustering all the boredom she could to drawl, "If you say so."

Moving back to where he had set his hook-swords and shirt, Jet gathered his things and headed up the steps. Before he disappeared through the stone archway leading into the temple, he threw one last scowling look over his shoulder.

Once he was out of sight, Mai felt something like a smile ambush her lips.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Whoa. o.o Sorry for how long it took me to churn out this chapter. Combination of school eating my life, lack of inspiration, and other things taking up my time. But! We're in the home stretch (_hopefully) _now, so things should hopefully maybe possibly be moving along at a steadier pace? xD_

_Anyway, hope you enjoy this!_

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. I do not gain a profit off of this or any similar works.  
**


	39. Chapter 39

Days crawled by at the Eastern Air Temple, bringing Aang and everyone else closer to the fateful day of Sozin's Comet, though they seemed to move backwards in preparing for it. Worry over Toph seeped into every conversation and sometimes it was hard to tell what was more important – defeating Ozai or saving their friend.

Time also brought Zuko more headaches and Mai more excitement, but neither grew closer to the answers they desired. Aang wasn't fairing much better – each lesson with Guru Pathik brought him closer to mastery of the Avatar State and his powers. Part of him wanted the control – the power – if only because it might help save Toph (and maybe impress Katara as an added bonus). He wanted to make his friends proud, to live up to their expectations and fulfill his duty and be revered as a hero.

But he also didn't. Because another part of him worried that if he mastered the Avatar State, he would always be _Avatar_ Aang and never just Aang, that he would somehow lose the right to play and be with friends and remain his child self. He liked the way things were now, when he was always a little bit the Avatar but never 100% unless he needed or wanted to be.

Plus, the Guru's lessons were horrible. It was all drinking onion and banana juice and unlocking his chakras so he could accept the flow of cosmic energies. Who wanted _cosmic energy_?

As a result, Aang tried to stall for time as much as possible, dragging out some chakras for hours, refusing to give in to Pathik's soothing instructions to "let go" and "accept that things have happened". What if he didn't _want_ to accept? What if he wasn't ready to?

But he couldn't delay the process forever, and eventually he found himself faced with unlocking his final chakra.

He and the Guru sat at the highest point of the temple, the star-dotted sky spread out above them. Sitting in the lotus position, Aang concentrated on Pathik's instructions as he told him that this final chakra – the Thought Chakra – dealt with pure cosmic energy and was blocked by earthly attachments.

"I want you to meditate on what attaches you to this world."

Obedient but reluctant, Aang bowed his head, focusing. Images sprang to mind readily; Katara bending, dancing, smiling, hugging.

"Now let all of those attachments flow away . . . forgotten."

The images dancing through Aang's mind abruptly shattered. "You want me to _what_?"

"Let go. Detach," Pathik said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "What ties you to this Earth is also what prevents you from protecting it."

"But . . . I can't let go of Katara! I . . . I . . ." He searched for the right explanation, mind leaping back to all those close moments with her when his stomach flipped and heart skipped. "I love her!"

"Then you must let her go."

Staring at the Guru in disbelief, Aang felt hot anger course through his veins, not unlike the sensation that went with intense firebending. This guy wanted him to just toss Katara aside, abandon the girl he loved (now that he had finally said it aloud, he couldn't stop using that word)? It wasn't right – was completely insensitive. Hadn't other Avatar's had spouses? Why did _he_ have to give up what he wanted most? It wasn't like he had asked for any of this to fall on his shoulders!

All this was too much to express in his anger, so Aang settled on saying, "What's wrong with love? A few chakras ago it was a _good_ thing!"

"And it is," Pathik said, still unwavering in the face of Aang's upset. "But such a level of attachment clouds your mind and interferes with your ability to accept the flow of cosmic energies."

"I don't _want_ cosmic energy! I want Katara!"

Silence followed Aang's declaration. Pathik stared at him, expression stern when he finally said, in a voice low and patient, "Aang, I know this is hard, but you have to do this."

"No I don't!" he yelled, leaping to his feet with the aid of a wind gust. "I'm still a person! I still have choices! And I say Katara is a better choice than ultimate power! And – "

"That's not what I meant."

Pausing in his tirade, Aang eyed him curiously, some of his anger slipping away. "Well, what _do_ you mean?"

"Had you wanted to wait a few days before starting this process, you could have. But now that you have started you _cannot_ stop. Otherwise, your chakras will be blocked and you will not be able to enter the Avatar State at all."

The gravity of the situation slowly sank in, dragging Aang back to the ground. Falling to his knees, he slumped, timidly asking, "You mean . . . never?"

He nodded.

'_So that's it_?' Aang thought, caught between despair and anger. '_Either I give up Katara to have all the power in the world, or I give up the power to have Katara_?'

It hardly seemed fair – where was the middle option? Growing up, the monks had taught him that he could always find a middle option between surrender and violence as long as he kept a clear head. Well, his head was pretty clear (he'd done nothing except meditate for three days!), but he still saw no alternative.

So which was the lesser of two evils? Katara or power?

"Aang?" the Guru said, pulling him from his thoughts. His face was the picture of stern concern, lined with seriousness and wisdom. "Don't let personal preferences cloud your judgement. Try to look at it from a bystander's point of view – which option will best benefit him?"

He didn't really see how that made much of a difference – his life would still be miserable without Katara – but he complied nonetheless.

Closing his eyes and concentrating, he saw Fire Lord Ozai in his mind, standing against a black backdrop. The darkness melted away to reveal that he was standing atop the wall of Ba Sing Se, hair billowing in the wind and face cast in shadow. The sky reddened as a second sun started falling toward the Earth – Sozin's Comet. Raising his arms, Ozai cackled as fire burst to life all around him, spreading far and fast like an all-consuming locust.

And then Aang was there, fighting him for all his worth with air and earth and water and fire. He felt himself grow stronger, the energy of the Avatar State building –

'_What about Katara_?' he wondered, feeling her spirit grow distant. He wanted to pull her back, but he couldn't while he held the power . . .

He let go, felt her comforting presence rush back to his side, and then she was there – smiling at him proudly, her hands on his shoulders. '_Well done_.'

But Ozai remained, as did the flames consuming Ba Sing Se; he had to fight. Swinging his arms up, he summoned earth but moved air. Ozai punched out a burst of flame that swirled and danced like it had a mind of its own – like a dragon. It rushed toward him, but he couldn't summon water to douse it or grab hold of it himself. His airbending only made the problem grow.

It hit him, instantly turning the world to nothing but heat and pain. He couldn't see; he cried out for help. The wall crumbled beneath him and he plummeted to the ground, bones rattling out of his body on impact only to be crushed by a stampede of Fire Nation soldiers storming the city. Somewhere, Katara and the others scream –

"Okay!" Aang shouted, jolting himself out of the vision. Tears streamed down his face, his breath ragged as he choked. "Okay. I'll do it."

The Guru smiled, reaching out to gently wipe his cheek. "Very good, Avatar Aang."

XxXx

"I wonder sometimes," Azula said, pacing around Toph, who sat on a chair in the center of the room. "Why do I even bother with guards? It's quite clear they're useless."

"You got that right."

Azula turned to face her, one hand on her hips. With her own hand pressed to the smooth wood of the chair, Toph could feel the muffled vibrations of her heartbeat, just fast enough to show anger. "So they just let you go? Didn't pay any attention to where you went?"

"Yeah," Toph said, leaning back with her arms crossed. She wondered if Azula could see _her_ heart pounding through her chest.

"They're _useless_," Azula hissed, continuing to pace like a predator, each step slow and deliberate. "They'll ruin anything. But why should I be surprised?" Her voice lowered, and Toph wondered if maybe this was a private conversation she wasn't meant to hear. "They're all the same – just like Mai and Ty Lee. _Useless_."

"So . . . I guess I'll need a new set of guards?" Something she was _not_ looking forward to; it had been hard enough to convince the first batch that she was Azula's bestest best friend.

"No," the princess spat, whirling around to face her. "No, you don't need them – _we_ don't need them." She sauntered closer, a lion-snake closing in on a deer-mouse. A smirk invaded her voice as she said, "We're different from them. We're not like Mai and Ty Lee, always so _dependent_. You and I, we carry our own weight, make out own rules." She stood beside Toph now, stooping low to look her in her sightless eyes and hiss in her ear, "We can destroy them all. _Together_."

"Sure," Toph squeaked, struggling to keep the fear of her voice. Her mind jumped back to Mai telling her she was just like Azula. Was this what she meant? "Now, when you say '_destroy'_, do you mean – "

"Kill them," Azula said, rising to full height and strolling over to her vanity. Toph could blurrily "see" her fingering her hair, a sign that she was likely admiring her reflection. "Or maybe just capture them and make their lives miserable. I haven't quite decided yet."

"And by 'they' you mean Mai and Ty Lee?"

"Oh, they'll certainly be included. I can't give them the satisfaction of the spotlight, however, so we'll have to do the same with anyone else who opposes us. I'm sure father will be very pleased to have Zuzu and the Avatar dead."

"Right," Toph said, managing a nervous laugh, Pumping the air half-heartedly with her fist, she cheered, "Down with the Avatar's allies!"

"And the rest of the world," Azula growled, still staring at the mirror, the muscles in her jaw tensing. For a moment, she muttered to herself, the words too rushed and muffled to be distinguishable. Then she whirled around a stalked back over to Toph carrying what felt like a hairbrush in hand, saying, "Who knows? Maybe you, father, and I will be the only ones left after the Comet. Won't that be _amazing_? Just us, the strong and worthy left to hold together the world. No one to betray and abandon us."

The thought made Toph's stomach flip. She longed to return to her friends, if only so she could talk to them about Azula's bizarre behaviour – they might even be able to help her figure out what to do, how to escape. What if she tried writing a letter? Zuko _had_ taught her a lot. But would something like that ever be allowed to –

There was a shriek, then Azula was hurling her hairbrush at the mirror. The glass exploded from its frame, deafening and disorienting to Toph's unique senses. Beside her, Azula's breathing was ragged and enraged.

Then everything was still.

"Princess!" a guard shouted, rushing into the room with his hands raised in preparation to attack. Pausing, he looked at the shards of glass, at Azula standing in the center of the room, at Toph still sitting obediently in her chair. Faltering, he said, "P-princess? I thought I heard you scream. Is –"

"I'm fine," she snapped. Making a shooing gesture, she said, "Fetch a maid and tell her to clean this mess up."

"Very well, princess. Shall I send out for a replacement?"

"_No!_" she shouted. Then, sucking in a deep breath, added lowly, "I don't ever want to see another mirror in this room again."

The guard bowed and hurried down the hall to carry out her bidding. Watching him, Azula hummed thoughtfully. "He seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Maybe we should spare him. What do you think?"

Toph could only nod numbly, wishing she could follow him.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for the long wait again! But now it's summer time, so hopefully I should be more consistent. n-n I have a bit of the next chapter already written, so I may or may not be able to post it relatively soon - we'll see. _

_Anyway, hope you enjoy this!_

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	40. Chapter 40

"Any luck?" Iroh asked as he poured Ursa a steaming cup of jasmine tea.

He didn't need to elaborate; there was only one concern on her mind lately, and that was her son's amnesia and how little she could do about it. Spending more time with him was the only way she knew to help, but he was always busy with something (such as Aang and his training) or else completely elusive. The latter part made some sense after Iroh told her about his exploits as the Blue Spirit, though that didn't make things any less frustrating and only served to remind her of how much she had missed in Zuko's life.

Sighing, she accepted the cup he offered her. "No. I don't know what to do anymore."

Humming thoughtfully, Iroh paused to sip his own tea. Setting the cup down on the low tabletop between them, he folded his hands together, saying, "In my experience, putting him in a familiar situation with a familiar person will often jog his memory."

"I can't even track him down to _talk_ to him. How could I convince him to . . . What could I even _do_ with him?"

"Well," he started, watching her run her finger along the rim of her cup with a glum expression, "maybe it would be tricky to put the two of you in a familiar setting, given our current circumstances. However, I do believe putting him in a situation of duress and pressure should produce similar results."

Ursa looked up from her drink, eyeing him warily. She didn't want to get her hopes up again. "What did you have in mind?"

A sly smile spread across his weathered face.

XxXxX

"Why do _I_ have to watch this again?" Jet asked, allowing Katara to drag him to the courtyard where he had been training a few days earlier. The sun hung even higher in the sky today, forcing them to squint when they stepped out from the shelter of the temple halls.

"Because we're all a _team_ and we should do things _together_," she ground out between her teeth, grip on his wrist tightening to the point of being painful. The tiny spark of hope that maybe this was all a clever disguise for a romantic afternoon together quickly fizzled.

Which made Jet even less enthused about watching Zuko in a sword fight. Unless, of course, that sword fight ended with the fire-scum getting decapitated, but something told him that was unlikely.

"Don't see what this has to do with teamwork," he muttered. Regardless, he sat down on the steps to watch. At least he could sit beside Katara; maybe, with any luck, he could charm her into calling off the break-up . . .

Someone plunked down between the pair with a drawn out sigh. "This is going to be so boring."

Crouching behind Mai and glancing around conspiratorially, Ty Lee stage-whispered, "I'm gonna wait for Sokka and sit with him. Is that okay?"

"Knock yourself out."

With a giggle and a twirl, she cartwheeled away.

'_Well_,' Jet thought, sending Mai a sidelong glare, '_one of my least favourite people. This should be fun._'

He didn't know what her problem was, but ever since they had arrived at the temple she had been popping up wherever he went, nagging and nagging and nagging at him until he snapped. Even weirder, sometimes she actually looked ready to _smile_ while she was making his life miserable.

Yeah – Mai. _Smiling_.

While Jet was brooding over this, Zuko and his opponent entered the courtyard from further along the steps. The first of the pair paused on his way down, gaze darting about as if searching for something of critical importance. Then he spotted Katara and brightened, lips instantly tugging up in a small smile. Jet craned his neck around Mai just in time to see Katara grin and wave back, every bit the role of a supportive best friend.

He _hoped_ they were only friends.

Zuko continued on his way into the makeshift arena (Iroh was the ref and the announcer), followed closely by his opponent – a woman Jet had only ever seen briefly. Having never spoken to her, he wasn't sure what her name was, though he thought maybe he had heard that she acted mainly as an intelligence gatherer. She seemed to glide into the courtyard, still garbed in her White Lotus robe, her long hair pulled back in a bun with a few loose strands framing her sharp-featured face. Something about the whole image sent a shiver down Jet's spine, and it took him a moment to understand why.

She looked like an adult Azula.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and creatures of all sizes!" Iroh announced, patting Momo – who had just leaped curiously onto his shoulder – on the head. "We are gathered here on this beautiful day for some friendly competition between two of our own! On my left –" he held out his left hand, palm flat and all fingers together, pointing at Zuko as if someone might not be clear on directions "– is none other than the former prince Zuko, firebending teacher to the Avatar!"

There was a healthy level of applause, including Katara cheering a bit too enthusiastically for Jet's liking. Beside him, Mai smirked. Further along the steps, Ty Lee giggled, so close to Sokka she was practically on his lap.

"To my right is the lovely Lady Ursa of the White Lotus!"

Polite applause followed this; even Iroh clapped, winking conspicuously at the woman. Zuko, meanwhile, appeared to have frozen, eyes wide and posture stiff. It reminded Jet of how some rookie Fire Nation soldiers looked when his gang would ambush them from the trees.

"Let the match begin!"

Iroh darted out of the "arena" as the two fighters faced-off, shifting into battle stances and staring each other down. It only took Jet a few seconds to spot the weak points in Ursa's pose, mentally highlighting the flaws in her defence with signs and arrows, but Zuko never moved to strike. Instead, the pair stood stock-still, locked in a stalemate before the fight had even begun.

Then, with swift and graceful movements, Ursa glided forward swinging her sword. Reflexively, Zuko parried each blow with ease, but Jet could tell the action was just that: reflex. There was no thought or power behind the motions, no effort to counter or fight back. He just moved mechanically to defend himself.

Leaping nimbly backward after a volley of blocked strikes, Ursa shook her sword arm as if to rid it of exhaustion, adjusted her grip, then stepped forward and resumed swinging. Watching, Jet noted uncertainty in her movements, the way she braced herself against each jarring impact, wincing (almost _blinking_) with each metallic clang.

She was still a novice.

And yet, Zuko was being backed into a corner.

Much as Jet would hate to admit it to anyone, Zuko was good – no, _great_ – with swords and could easily hold his ground in a fight, even if he was facing an expert like Jet himself. His swords were like a second set of hands to him. So how in the world was a barely adequate fighter gaining the upper-hand? If he was fighting on his top game, Ursa would have been cut or disarmed or knocked flat on her ass at least a dozen times by then.

Something was wrong. Something was _really_ wrong.

Ursa swung inexpertly, flinching as the strike was parried. At the same time, Zuko looked pained, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed, his whole body stiff and tense. There was another pause as Ursa adjusted her grip a second time, and only then did Zuko wince, jaw muscles tightening and lines stretching horizontally across his forehead.

"His head," Katara breathed, pitch rising sharply. Glancing at her, Jet noted her wide eyes and fisted hands, her whole expression potent with fear and worry. It was only then that he noticed the knot building in his stomach.

Ursa swung again, and everything seemed to slow. As her blade's edge loomed closer to Zuko, his own swords slipped from his fingers, his knees buckling and hands flying up to cradle his head. The weapon aiming for his torso found his face instead, glinting silver instantly dyed crimson.

"_Zuko_!"

It was hard to tell who shrieked louder – Ursa, or Katara.

The courtyard broke into panic, everyone descending the steps at once, clamouring to examine him and figure out what had happened. Ursa was quickly shoved to the sidelines, her bloody sword lying forgotten on the ground as she stared in mute horror, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks.

"Zuko?" Katara sobbed, kneeling at his side and helping Iroh prop him upright. He blinked blurrily, gaze shifting toward her. "Zuko! Can you hear me? Say something! Maybe you have a concussion – do you remember who you are?"

He was silent for a moment, gaze drifting over the crowd surrounding him, seemingly unaware of the blood oozing from the gash that stretched from his forehead to his cheek. Finally, his eyes landed on Ursa and a small, hesitant smile formed on his lips. "I am Zuko . . . son of Ursa."

* * *

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	41. Chapter 41

The world was spinning slow, lazy twirls, and Zuko wasn't sure it was entirely unpleasant. If he could get rid of the throbbing in his head, he might even consider it nice . . .

Something cool and wet pressed against the sore spot. The pain began to ebb, as did the dizziness.

"I think that's as a good as it's gonna get," a voice ('_Katara_?') murmured from somewhere above, and the soothing sensation vanished. Then a finger trailed diagonally across his forehead to his cheek, soft and warm, prompting him to open his eyes.

A blur hovered above him at first, but he blinked, clearing away the fogginess of sleep so to reveal Katara. His lips instantly tugged upward and he lifted his hand to cradle hers against his cheek. "Hey."

"Hey," she mimicked, pretending to scratch at the inner corner of her eye (Zuko was pretty sure he saw the glimmer of a tear). "You had me worried. _Us_. Everyone was really worried about you."

"Sorry," he mumbled, letting his eyelids droop as he rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand, enjoying its warmth. "I'll try not to get hit in the face anymore."

Even as she pulled her hand from his grasp (he tried not to show his disappointment), Katara giggled softly. A brief moment of silence stretched between, time Zuko used to determine where exactly he was.

The walls were plain stonework like every other bedroom in the temple, the windows through which pale sunlight poured also identical. He lay on a lumpy mattress in a bed that could be found anywhere else, thin white linens tucked neatly around him. Beside him, Katara sat on a wooden and unremarkable chair. The only distinguishing feature that told him it was _his_ room was the pearl dagger resting on his bedside.

"How's your head?" Katara asked at last.

"Very clear, for once."

"That's good," she said, nodding and examining her fingernails. There was another pause, shorter than the first yet somehow more intensely awkward. As he watched her avoid looking him in the eye, Zuko felt the conversational gears in his brain grinding to a halt. Maybe it was because of head trauma. Maybe it was because he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she didn't hate him and the only question left was, "How much does she _like_ me?"

"Everyone was worried about you," she murmured again. She waited a beat, glancing at him for the briefest of seconds before adding, "Even Jet."

Zuko pushed himself upright.

"Really?" A memory flashed through his mind, clear but quick – Jet in a pink apron reaching out to fluff Zuko's slicked-back hair. "What . . . Did he say anything? How do you know?"

"He was pretty quiet, but . . . I could see it in his face. I think he needed the same push I did, just . . . more forceful." She smiled now, finally meeting his gaze as she said, "He's finally coming around."

It felt like his heart was exploding and deflating all at once, his blood flashing hot like it was made of alcohol and someone had struck a spark rock too close.

"So, does that mean you're going to take him back?"

"What?" She blinked, forehead wrinkling in genuine confusion.

"Jet – you said you think he's coming around. Does that mean you're going to give him another shot? A-as your boyfriend?"

Damn it! Why did he have to stutter?

"Oh," she said, gaze falling. Both the confusion and the happiness drained from her face, leaving only uncertainty. Staring somewhere near his left foot, she sounded almost sad as she murmured, "I'm . . . not sure. There's so much else to think about right now."

He struggled to quell a surge of joy.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Both turned to see Ursa with one hand resting on the doorframe, her eyes tracing a line across Zuko's face where her blade had struck. Only one foot crossed over the threshold and into the room, as if moving any closer was taboo.

"Not at all," Katara said in a rush, jumping up from the chair she had pulled to Zuko's bedside. Gesturing for Ursa to sit, she added, "I should get going – you guys probably have a lot of catching up to do."

However, as she darted toward the door, Ursa caught her wrist and forced her to halt. "Actually, I was hoping to talk to you, too. Could you wait for me in the meditation room? If it's not too much trouble, of course."

Looking from the hand holding her wrist to the woman's kind smile, Katara opened her mouth to protest. Then, after pausing a moment, she clamped her mouth shut and merely nodded.

Releasing her grip, Ursa nodded her approval before turning and entering the room, wordlessly dismissing Katara, who slipped down the hall and out of sight. As she neared the bed, Ursa faltered, gaze roaming over Zuko's face once more, searching for the damage she had caused. "Zuko . . . I am _so_ sorry. I should have known, I should have – "

"Mom," he cut in, relishing the unfamiliar sound. Hearing that word and seeing her face – _remembering_ her face – was enough to make him break into a wide grin. "It's okay."

The relief was visible in her expression as she sank into the chair Katara had vacated, her legs seemingly unable to support her any longer. Zuko thought he knew the feeling – it was why he was in his current condition, after all. She reached out to grab his hand, cradling it between both of hers. They sat in silence for a few moments, soaking in each other's presence, as warm and enriching as the sun they worshipped. His spirit was so light and relaxed that Zuko felt like he had turned into a cloud (or maybe just an airbender).

The longer they sat together, however, the more memories started to flutter through his brain, reminding him of everything he still didn't know. As heavy thoughts filled his mind, his spirit started to sink like a warship with a leaky hull.

"Why did you leave?"

Her eyes widened, then quickly dropped to stare at their joined hands. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I had to."

Heat seared his veins. Why would no one give him any straight answers? He had asked his father, the servants, his uncle, but they all gave the same cryptic responses even though he _knew_ they knew the truth.

"I'm sorry," she said, quickly dropping his hands. "But it's all so complicated – I don't want to drag you into my problems."

Watching her rub her palms on her knees, Zuko realized he was literally burning with anger. Breathing in deep through his nose to calm himself, he concentrated on pulling the heat back inside him. Once the internal inferno was under control, he said, "Mom, I already have a bounty on my head – I don't think you can make things much worse."

She smiled softly, reluctant. "Maybe you're right," she said, reaching out to brush a stray hair from his face, fingers lingering to feel along the line where her blade had cut him. He winced, and she dropped her hand. "But not now. I'll tell you some other time."

"_No_," he growled, grabbing her wrist when she stood to leave. Startled, Ursa looked from his hand to his face; he met her wide eyes, his own narrowed in determination. With a gentle tug, he forced her back into her seat. "I've wanted to know this since the day I found out you'd left. I'd always just assumed that whoever killed Azulon got you, too, but now that I know you're alive . . . . I'll go crazy if you don't tell me."

Gaze dropped back down to his hand on her wrist, Ursa said nothing. For moment, Zuko wondered if she was simply going to refuse to speak until he let her leave – it would certainly be fitting with his family's history of stubbornness.

Then, drawing a breath, she whispered, "I had to. To protect you."

He stiffened as another memory flickered passed – '_Everything I've done, I've done to protect you._' – listening intently for her next words.

"Your father . . . he asked Fire Lord Azulon if he could take Iroh's place as the next in line for the throne. Fire Lord Azulon –"

"I know that part already."

Ursa looked up, blinking in surprise.

"Azula and I sort of . . . listened in," he admitted, bowing his head as child-like shame painted his cheeks red. "Sorry. Uh . . . Go on."

"Fire Lord Azulon didn't approve of your father's request and felt he needed to suffer the same pain as Iroh – the pain of losing his first-born son. When I heard Azula taunting you that night, I pulled her aside and made her tell me everything."

"I bet she enjoyed that," Zuko muttered, scowling at a wrinkle in his bed sheets. Then, sending his mom a side-long glance, he smiled sheepishly and said, "Sorry. I'll stop interrupting."

But Ursa hardly seemed to care. Instead, she smiled sadly, staring somewhere passed his left shoulder as she said, "You're sister was very upset, actually."

"She . . . . She was worried for me?"

"Well, no . . . . But she did fear what may have happened if Iroh had lost a daughter instead. I think that's why she became so attached to your father – she wanted to be the perfect child so he would never be able to hurt her."

"I always thought she was just born that way," he admitted, suddenly feeling like he had swallowed an anvil.

"No. She used to be the sweetest baby. You were too young to remember, but when she first learned to talk she always asked to sleep in her Zuzu's room."

Zuko's stomach felt so heavy he wondered if he might be pulled through the floor. What had happened to that little girl? Why had she turned into such a monster?

"Anyway," Ursa said, distant expression refocusing, "I knew I had to do something, so your father and I came up with a plan."

"He wanted to protect me?" Zuko blurted, forgetting his promise not to interrupt.

"I – well, he didn't exactly _say_ –"

"He just wanted to protect his birthright, didn't he?"

She nodded guiltily.

"It's okay," Zuko assured her after a brief pause, pushing away a stab of sorrow by reminding himself that Ozai was no longer his father. The "Aang Gang", as Sokka sometimes called them, were his new family, and Iroh was the best father he had ever had. Plus, he had his mom back. What Ozai had done to him as a child didn't matter anymore.

With a bob of his head and a slight rotation of his hand, Zuko encouraged Ursa to continue.

"Your father had to be out of sight for the plan to work; otherwise he would be suspected and denied the throne. So, that night, I brought Azulon a cup of tea under the pretence of apologizing for your father's earlier behaviour. I tried negotiating with him first, but he wouldn't hear it, so . . . . So I slipped a bit of poison into his drink when he wasn't looking. It was very potent – his airway started closing over in a matter of minutes. I lied, told him I had an antidote that I would give him if he promised Ozai the throne. The guards entered just in time to hear his dying words."

"And then took you away?" Zuko guessed, but immediately knew he was wrong. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to visit him in his room before disappearing into the night, wouldn't be living with the White Lotus Society.

"Not exactly – I had been crying through the whole thing, so when they saw me kneeling by Azulon's bedside they just assumed he had passed away. However, I guess I had dropped the poison vial at some point, because I had barely gathered the things I'd packed before they came looking for me. I had to make my goodbyes quick in order to escape."

"That's why you kept looking over your shoulder," he said as the memory flashed through his mind once more. "And there were footsteps."

Nodding mutely, Ursa tore her gaze from her hands folded in her lap to his face, eyes wide and expression earnest. "But believe me, Zuko, I hated every second of it – of killing Azulon and being away from my family. I always wanted to go back, but I knew I would be executed for treason, and when I heard what your father did to you . . ." she trailed off, reaching up to cradle his scarred cheek, thumb tracing over the bottom edge of the red, uneven flesh. "I wish there was something I could have done to protect you better."

"Mom," he said softly, reaching up to place his hand over hers. A small smile found his lips. "It's alright. Things probably would have turned out _worse_ if I'd been stuck in that palace all my life."

"And how's that?"

"Well, for one thing, I wouldn't have found you again. And . . . I would never see just how much this war makes people suffer, or meet any of my friends." His eyes seemed to glaze over, expression growing distant. "Wow . . . . A world without Aang . . . or Toph . . . or Sokka . . . or Katara . . ."

Ursa rose to her feet abruptly, almost pulling Zuko – who still held her hand – out of bed.

"Wha –?"

"I just remembered I have some important business to take care of," she rushed to explain. Stooping, she kissed his forehead and added, "I'm so glad I had a chance to explain this all to you. If you ever have any other questions . . ."

"I'll be sure to ask," he said, slightly dazed.

With that, Ursa turned and headed out the door, disappearing like she had so many years ago.

Flopping back on his pillows, Zuko draped his arm across his face. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sighed and finally succumbed to the torrent of memories building in his head.

XxXx

Sitting cross-legged in the small meditation room, Katara studied the row of unlit candles assembled before her, the curtain that served as a door left wide open for light. The once-perfect white cylinders had uneven lines running down their sides where dripping wax had dried, the tops of them stained with soot.

Aside from a pillow to kneel on, the room was bare. No furniture, no tapestries. Nothing.

Katara couldn't help wondering if it had been much different when the monks still roamed the temple.

"Did I keep you waiting long?"

Turning, Katara saw Ursa standing in the doorway – buttery light spilling in all around her – and tried to smile. "Not at all."

Truthfully, it felt like she had been waiting for hours. But she couldn't say that, because a) this was Zuko's long-lost mother, so it probably wasn't wise to complain about how long she had taken to reunite with her son, and b) she wasn't really sure how long she had actually been waiting – there was a lot on her mind.

Namely, Jet.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but it seemed like he had sort of . . . changed? It was hard to put her finger on, but she detected a distinct difference in him, almost like his anger was dissipating.

Well, no, that wasn't quite right – it was more like it was being redirected, focused on an isolated target instead of an entire nation. There was still a lot of negativity directed toward Zuko, but for the most part it seemed to be a lot of envy with a few of "he's-a-no-good-firebending-scumbag" comments thrown in for good measure. Other than that, he hardly paid any mind to Iroh or Ty Lee or Jeong Jeong or any of the other Fire Nation natives in their presence.

Instead, all his rage was honed on Mai.

Katara didn't know how (or _why_) she had done it, but Mai – stoic, quiet, indifferent Mai – had single-handedly extinguished Jet's biggest flaw in a matter of days. And by _harassing_ him, no less!

It was great. She was relieved, elated, enormously grateful for what Mai had done.

. . . And very conflicted.

The reason she had called things off with Jet was his blinding prejudice. Now that it was gone (or at least controlled) she wasn't sure what to do.

Did she take him back? He _was_ Jet, after all, and could sometimes be a bit of a conceited, closed-minded asshole, but he also he also had moments when he was incredibly supportive and made her feel safe. He had travelled all across the Fire Nation with her, Aang, Sokka, and Toph, dealt with all their rules against sabotage and attacking innocents and the need to remain incognito – even though he was still full of hate for the nation that had taken his parents, he was patient and trusted their judgement. When it came down to it, he was a great guy,

And yet . . . she wasn't sure she _wanted_ him to be her boyfriend. The thought of kissing him didn't bring a smile to her face, didn't make her stomach fill with bubbling happiness and her mind wander to more dangerous possibilities. Instead she felt . . .

Nothing.

Maybe, during their break-up, Jet wasn't the only one who had changed.

A spark flew, igniting one of the candles and pulling Katara back to the present. Beside her, Ursa knelt in front of the row of candles, using spark rocks to light each one. Soon, the room was filled with a warm red glow, bright enough that Katara could still see the features of Ursa's face after the curtains had been pulled shut.

"So," Katara said when the older woman re-seated herself, straightening her back in an effort to mimic Ursa's perfect posture. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"You did a wonderful job healing Zuko – I can hardly even see a mark."

"Oh. Thanks," she said, fidgeting. Something told her that wasn't exactly what Ursa had wanted to discuss.

Tilting her head slightly, she scrutinized Katara for a moment, her pale gold eyes seeming to penetrate through her skin and straight into her brain. Katara shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet her intense gaze. Instead, she watched the flickering shadows the candles cast along the wall, noting how different a room could look when bathed in red.

"You're not right for him."

Her head jerked, almost giving her whiplash in her urgency to look Ursa in the face. "What?"

The woman mustered a kind smile, clearly pained by making this revelation. "I know you care a lot about my son, but you won't fit. He needs a Fire Lady who –"

"_Whoa_!" Katara cut in, raising both hands in a 'stop-right-there' gesture. Her heart hammered like it was trying to smash out of her chest. "You mean – _whoa_! Fire Lady? Um, no . . . th-there seems to have been some confusion. I don't –"

Gently grabbing one of her raised hands, Ursa brought it down to her lap. Patting Katara's knuckles, she said, "Okay. Maybe you still need time to see it, but when you do . . . . I just want you to know in advance it's not the best idea."

Katara's ribcage tightened around her heart, as if to contain a wild beast bent on escape. Her lungs felt constricted, too, making her almost breathless as she asked, "Why?"

"He'll be in a very high, very public position," Ursa explained, face oozing sympathy. "When the war ends, political tensions will be high and a lot will be expected of him. He needs a Fire Lady who can support him through that and understand the delicacy of his situation, and while you're a lovely girl . . ." Ursa's smile widened apologetically, shoulders rising in an 'it-can't-be-helped' shrug. "I think it would be better if he married a noble woman."

"What are you saying?" Katara asked, still breathless. The tightening now made her heart ache, squeezing it up into her oesophagus where it continued to pound angrily. Suddenly, the room felt far too hot. "Are you saying that . . . if I wanted to . . . I _can't_ marry Zuko because . . . I'm a peasant?"

She nodded, smile growing more sheepishly apologetic by the second. "Don't get me wrong, Katara – you're a lovely girl and I wish you the best in the world. I'm only telling you this to protect you and Zuko. And it's not that you two could never be together, it's just that things would have to be very . . . private."

"You think I should be his mistress instead of his wife," Katara said lowly, a statement, not a question. Her heart pounded so loudly she could hardly hear herself.

"Well . . . ." Ursa rose to her feet and Katara followed. Now it was the woman avoiding eye-contact while the girl's gaze bore into her. "For lack of a better word . . . yes."

There was silence; Katara could no longer speak. Her thoughts were too busy racing to formulate words. Or maybe it was because she was choking on her own heart.

"I'm glad we could have this chat," Ursa said, then – quite boldly, in Katara's opinion – flung her arms around Katara's shoulders in a brief bear-hug, whispering, "I'm so sorry. I would love to have you as my daughter-in-law, but . . ."

She pulled back, leaving the sentence hanging in the air as she turned and pushed passed the heavy fabric in the doorway, pausing only to offer another sad half-smile. Katara was left to stand in the semi-darkness, staring at her distorted shadow on the wrinkled drapes.

Suddenly, she knew why Jet didn't appeal to her anymore.

* * *

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	42. Chapter 42

"What do you mean, I can't go with you?"

Azula's screeching hardly earned a flinch from Ozai who sat statue still on his throne, as if he had never moved since his portrait was painted. His gold eyes were locked on his daughter, reflecting the fire that burned protectively around him.

"My decision is final. You will stay here while I conquer Ba Sing Se."

"But I want to go with you!" Azula protested, talon-like nails digging into her palms as she balled her hands into fists. She knelt on the floor, her distraught expression mirrored back to her on its glossy surface. "We're supposed to win the war together!"

"And we will," he said in a low, placating voice, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly at her frantic reaction. "There is plenty of work to be done here – the Avatar himself might even pay you a visit."

The Avatar? Azula felt herself straighten a little as her mind pieced together the implication, "You mean . . . You trust me to capture him? By myself?"

"You have convinced his little friend to join our side, correct?"

She nodded her head fervently. "Of course! I would never let her in so close if she were a threat to us."

"Then she will be the perfect bait," he said, smiling in a manner that would have sent chills down any normal person's spine. It only made Azula's joy grow. "Have her lead the Avatar here, only to find you and a dozen guards in my place."

"Guards?" she scoffed, elation dwindling slightly. Crossing her arms, she rolled her eyes as she said, "_Trust_ me, father, They're useless. I say we get rid of them altogether."

"Azula." His tone carried warning. "Don't be rash – the guards may not be as clever as you and I, but getting rid of them would leave the palace entirely vulnerable." He paused, waiting for her wordless, submissive nod before saying, "Good. Now, why don't you go explain our new plans to the guest?"

"Yes, father," she said, kowtowing before gracefully rising to her feet. She turned to begin the long walk toward the throne room doors, hesitated, then asked, "When you're gone, I'll be in charge, right?"

"Correct."

"Does that mean I have all the same power as you?"

He smiled, offering the slightest chuckle. "As long as you don't lay siege to any of those stubborn Earth Kingdom villages, yes. Any control I have within the palace will be yours. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. I just wanted to know the full range of my power."

With that, the princess headed toward the throne room doors, smirking all the way. While Ozai was away conquering Ba Sing Se, she could weed out the competent guards from the liabilities, sniff out any one who couldn't be trusted and make sure no one was wasting time or money or space. She would _really_ prove herself to her father, show him how great of a ruler she could be – no one would ever look down on her. Sitting on that throne, she would be in control.

_No one_ would ever be able to hurt her.

XxXx

Everyone residing in the Easter Air Temple had gathered in a circle in the courtyard, the afternoon sun beating down on their faces from the cloudless sky. The stone steps rose up behind Katara, who tried to ignore the tell-tale dark splotches on the ground in front of her. Easier said than done with Zuko sitting to her right, the ghost of a mark still visible on his face. She tried to focus on Aang sitting directly across from her instead.

It was odd, seeing almost everyone she knew in one place, gathered in a circle like kids telling campfire stories back home. It never occurred to her how childish their brainstorming sessions could look – maybe it was the image of Pakku and the Guru sitting cross-legged on the hard ground beside Aang that drove the point home.

But the method had always worked for them in the past. Why change?

"The Comet will be here in a few days," Aang said, tone carrying authority she had never heard him use before. It sent a little spark of pride through her. "We need to figure out exactly what we're doing."

"Well, obviously you should go to the palace, since that's where Ozai will be," Sokka said with a half-shrug, leaning back on his palms. "A few of us can go as backup, and the rest can head to Ba Sing Se to make sure the Fire Nation doesn't capture the city."

"Ooh!" Ty Lee gushed, clapping her hands in brief applause. "You're such a genius! Come over here so I can give you a big cheek-smoochy."

"Not so fast," Zuko said, seemingly oblivious to Sokka's rapidly reddening face. "I know Ozai pretty well, and I think he would want to seize Ba Sing Se himself."

"Zuko is right," Iroh said with a slight nod. "My brother would want to claim that glory himself."

"So, Aang goes to Ba Sing Se and . . ." Sokka paused, frowning thoughtfully and scanning the circle as he weighed their options. "Who's going in after Toph?"

"I'll get her!" Ty Lee volunteered, hand shooting into the air like she was an excited school girl. "And Mai! And Jet! And you, too, Sokka! And we'll kick Azula's butt while we're at it."

"No offense," Aang said, "but even with four against one I think the odds will be stacked against you. She got away with Toph when all of us were fighting, and that was _without_ a power boost from the Comet."

"You can't send in everyone," Piandao said, sitting straight-backed with his palms resting on his knees. He still wore his indigo White Lotus robes. "We'll need as many fighters as we can get on the front lines."

"What about Zuko and Katara?" Aang suggested. When everyone turned bewildered eyes on him, he merely shrugged and said, "Zuko has experience infiltrating places, his bending will be enhanced by the Comet, and both are masters of their elements. Who knows – they might even be able to get in, get Toph, and get out, no confrontation necessary."

Katara exchanged glances with Zuko, who raised his eyebrow and shrugged. Smiling softly, she nodded and looked back to Aang. "We're alright with that plan."

"Great! Everyone else will go to Ba Sing Se with me and –"

"How will we get there?" Mai cut in, arms crossed and expression caught somewhere between boredom and scepticism. Ty Lee, sitting on her left, deflated slightly at her negativity while Jet, who sat on her other side, nodded and looked surprised by his own agreement.

A sudden stillness fell over the group as they let the magnitude of her simple inquiry sink in. With growing dismay, Katara realized they _couldn't_ get there – not all of them. Appa had struggled carrying them before they had joined the White Lotus Society; adding on that much extra weight would make the poor beast collapse, especially over such a distance. Not to mention the small technicality of needing to travel to _two different places_!

If only Azula hadn't stolen their balloon . . .

"A balloon!" Katara exclaimed, turning to Sokka, who looked somewhat startled by her outburst. "You helped The Mechanist with his balloon design – you could build one!"

Rubbing his chin, he frowned thoughtfully. He only considered the idea for a few seconds, however, before dismissing it with a shake of his head. "I don't have the time or resources to build anything like that."

"What if you had help?"

Her brother's eyebrows scrunched together at Aang's suggestion. "What do you mean?"

The young boy allowed a wide grin to split across his face. "I could fly to the Northern Air Temple and bring back The Mechanist to help you. He might even have some machines already built that we could use!"

"And you could see if Teo and the others are willing to help in the battle," Katara suggested.

The trio discussed the matter enthusiastically, throwing around all kinds of possibilities and leaving the rest of the group to exchange confused glances. Finally, Zuko cut into their conversation, saying, "Uh, not to be rude, but . . . what the hell are you talking about?"

XxXx

The sun slowly edged its way toward the horizon, trying to slip away from the world unnoticed. Watching orange and gold spread across the clouds, Ursa thought maybe she knew the feeling.

The plan was set – Katara and Zuko would infiltrate the palace to rescue Toph and – if the need arose – take down Azula, while Aang and everyone else headed to Ba Sing Se to fight the invading forces and, most importantly, defeat Ozai.

Everyone except Guru Pathik (the elderly man had laughed at the mere suggestion of fighting in the war), and herself.

It wasn't that she was incompetent in a fight – though, admittedly, she was considerably far below the bar set by the rest of the group. She just wasn't cut out for the battlefield, and she knew it. So, instead of brandishing her sword at armour clad and faceless fighters, she would be strapping on a light travelling pack and slipping away from the temple while everyone bid farewell to Aang, who was leaving for the Northern Air Temple that evening. She would help the battle in her own small way, seeking out old friends and allies and sending them to Ba Sing Se to join the fray, hopefully tipping the scales in father of the White Lotus Society and the Avatar.

Then, when it was all over, maybe she would be able to return to the palace and find a way to make it feel like home again.

"Mom?"

She turned at the voice, startled. With his brows furrowed in confusion, Zuko moved closer to join her beside the low parapet. Below them thin mist swirled in a gentle breeze, tinted a soft amber by the sun and making the bottom of the mountain even more impossible to see.

"What are you doing out here?"

She returned her attention to the sunset ". . . Thinking."

He was silent for a moment, but she could still feel his eyes studying her, unrelenting.

"Why do you have your bag packed?" he asked, voice low and tight as if he was struggling to hold something back. He didn't wait for her to answer. "Are you running away again? Is this how you deal with danger – just wait until no one's looking and disappear?"

"Zuko, please –"

"You weren't even going to say goodbye, were you?" he snapped, no longer trying to disguise his anger.

Ursa kept her back turned to him, knowing she couldn't bear to see the inevitable hurt in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Zuko, but there's nothing else I can do. I –"

"Just because you're not going into battle doesn't mean it's okay for you to run off without saying anything. Where are you even _going_?"

"Everywhere." Her mind darted through the list of people she wanted to find, unable to settle on where to start. "I'm not sure."

His only answer was to scoff.

"Zuko . . ."

She finally turned to face him, only to be hit by a wave of sadness when she saw his jaw squared and eyes narrowed in frustration and disappointment. Her heart clenched like a fist. "I'm _sorry_, Zuko, but I have to, I-I-I . . . I can't say goodbye, because . . ."

"What?"

"Because then I'm admitting I may never see you, or Iroh, or any of these people again and I can't bear that thought!"

"You think it's any easier on me? You think I'll have no problem waking up to find my mother gone _again_, you think I won't mind not being allowed to look for you because we have to prepare for the invasion and –" his voice broke abruptly, face crumbling as he succumbed to raw emotion. "You think I won't worry about never seeing _you_ again?"

A lump had formed in Ursa's throat, rendering her unable to say anything except "I'm sorry" over and over. Tears rolling down her face, she threw her arms around Zuko's neck. He was quick to return the embrace, and for a few moments they just stood there, squeezing each other as tightly as they could, seeming to fear that one of them would vanish if they weren't held firmly in place.

Ursa didn't know how long they had stood there crying on each other's shoulders, but when they finally stepped back and dried their eyes, the sun had slipped almost completely below the horizon, unnoticed. A true master of stealth.

"I really do have to go, you know," she said, swiping fresh tears from her cheek with her index finger.

"Why?" He dragged the side of his hand across his good eye, drying the moisture that had gathered there. "Will you at least say goodbye to the others?"

She nodded, finding a smile as she explained, "I'm going to look for some old friends of the White Lotus, see if they're willing to help in the fight. It's the only way I can think of to help."

"In that case," he said, the corners of his lips tugging upward slightly, "I have some suggestions of who to look for."

* * *

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	43. Chapter 43

Standing in the doorway of her room, Katara let her eyes roam over the sparse furnishings. There were only a few nights left that she would sleep in her own bed, listening to the gentle sound of the wooden wind chimes Aang had made for her when they still lived in the Western Air Temple. Would she ever wake up with the cheerfully bright sun shining directly on her face after they left? Would this be the last home she knew?

And what if it wasn't? What if she survived – would it be a world without war and full of friends, or a world filled with corpses of loved ones that the Fire Lord ruled with an iron fist? Neither option seemed possible – it was unfathomable that there could ever be an end to the war or a universe where her friends didn't exist. Both had been a part of her life for far too long to just _stop_.

And yet, they were both entirely plausible. They would win or they would lose; one had to happen. That was the scariest part.

"Katara?"

She jumped, so caught up in her worries that she hadn't heard Aang walk up behind her. Though, given the fact that he had been dubbed "Twinkle Toes", it was possible that he simply hadn't made a sound.

Shaking her head slightly, she wondered why even the simplest of things had to have multiple explanations. Imagining possibilities was tiring.

"What is it, Aang?" she asked, turning to face him with her widest smile in place. There was no sense in worrying him.

He shrugged, scratching the back of his bald head. "I just came to say goodbye."

"Oh . . . I thought we were all supposed to see you off together?"

"Yeah, well, I, uh . . . I wanted to say goodbye to you privately."

"Oh." She paused, letting the meaning of his words hit. "_Oh_."

He took a step closer, wringing his hands but managing to look her in the eye. "I just . . . I wouldn't want to go off into battle without . . . telling you. And now seems like the best chance I'll get."

Every word was like a stone tied to Katara's heart, pulling it farther and farther down until it hammered away somewhere near her kneecap. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was going to tell her, and though she was clear now on her feelings for a certain scarred ex-prince, there was no way she could outright refuse Aang. Not _now_ – he couldn't go off to fight Ozai with a broken heart.

But how much worse would he feel if she led him on?

"I love you," he blurted, the words rolling from his tongue with startling ease. He ploughed on before she could respond. "And it's okay if you don't feel the same way. I mean, I'd definitely prefer it if you did, but . . . I get that it won't be the end of the world."

"Aang, I-I . . . Are you –? This is just . . . sudden," she lied, trying to avoid his gaze. It had, admittedly, taken her a lot longer to figure out his feelings than should have been necessary. As the weeks had dragged on, she had grown more and more aware of his advances – his eagerness to practice with her, the not-so-subtle compliments, the way he always tried to sit beside or directly across from her at meals and meetings. She had been something of an enormous idiot for not noticing sooner.

And now, here he was. _Confessing_. What was she supposed to do?

Reading her astonished expression like an open scroll, Aang grinned and said, "It's okay if you don't feel the same. Mastering the Avatar State taught me a lot more than how to glow on command."

"I –" a million responses tumbled through her mind. Did she apologize? Lie and say she didn't know how she felt? Tell him who she _did_ have feelings for? As her thoughts swirled dizzingly, she finally chose one at random and blurted, "Aang, whatever happens, however the war ends . . . I want you to know that I'm _really_ proud of you."

He smiled, though the corners of his lips seemed weighted with sadness. "Don't worry. If I'm brave enough to risk rejection, I can handle anything Ozai throws at me."

Laughing, she drew him into a friendly embrace and said, "Just . . . Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"Well . . ." He stepped back, gaze dropping as he became seemingly enthralled with watching his toes scuff the stone floor. "I decided to do this so I wouldn't go into battle with any regrets, so –"

Katara couldn't help sighing, not so much out of annoyance as the sheer predictability of his next words. Her smile never wavered. "Let me guess: you want a kiss?"

His gaze lifted, reddening cheeks and bashful smile in place. "If that's alright."

"Go ahead," she said with a playful roll of her eyes.

Beaming, Aang took another step closer and, resting both hands on her shoulders as he raised himself on tip-toes, planted a brief, nervous peck on her cheek. Then he hastily stepped back, flushing bright red and rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncertain of what to do next. Katara couldn't help appreciating the fact that he didn't take "I guess you can kiss me" to mean "please stick your tongue in my mouth" like certain _other_ boys.

"Come on," she said after a moment of awkwardness. Slipping past him into the hall, she gestured for him to follow. "You still need to say goodbye to all the others."

They made their way through the ancient corridor together, out into the courtyard bathed in moonlight and across a bridge that connected to another mountain. Even from the other side of the bridge, they could see all their friends grouped together, a few waving to them excitedly.

"This is it," Aang murmured as they made their way over to the other side, the world below falling away to mist. "After I leave here, everything will be different."

Studying his solemn expression and anxious grey eyes, Katara felt her heart pang. As much as he may have matured since the start of their journey, he was still just a little kid. It didn't seem right for him to imagine his world crumbling.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, she forced him to slow to a stop and face her. Smiling broadly, she looked him straight in the eye and lied for all she was worth. "Everything's going to be _fine_, Aang. You don't need to worry. You'll beat Ozai, Zuko and I will save Toph and kick Azula's butt, and everyone will be safe when we're through. The only change you have to worry about is how _happy_ the world's going to be – like old times."

"Yeah. You're probably right." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, but it was better than nothing.

They soon reached the other side of the bridge where their hodgepodge family waited. In an instant, the unease of the earlier moment dissipated and the air filled instead with hugs and "Good luck"s and promises no one was sure they could keep. But, somehow, despite knowing none of the things anyone said was really guaranteed ("One day, I'll introduce you to some _real_ firebending masters," Iroh told Aang while sending Ursa a not-so-subtle wink), Katara found she wasn't afraid anymore. All the anxiety had seeped from her bones.

"Where are you going?" Aang asked, gesturing Ursa's travelling pack.

"Around," came her vague response, gaze flicking over the crowd. Then, noticing her son frowning disapprovingly a few feet away, she sighed and elaborated, "I can't help much on the battlefield, but I know plenty of people who can. I'm finding them and sending them your way."

"How? You're not –"he made a face at the mere thought of his next words "– _walking_, are you?"

"Well, I had planned on catching an ostrich-horse somehow . . ."

Aang shook his head firmly. "No way. No one on _my_ team is gonna be stuck travelling the world that way. Take Appa."

"What?" she cried, eyes instantly growing owl-cow wide. "No! I can't – you need –"

"I'm going to The Mechanist for airships and stuff, anyway. We won't need him; you do."

There was a finality in his tone that was hard to argue with so, with a sigh and a small shake of her head, Ursa conceded. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and raising her eyebrows slightly, she looked him straight in the eye and said, "You're going to do wonderful things for this world."

He shrugged modestly, trying to hide his discomfort at the reminder of the world's dependency. Glancing toward the dark sky spread out around them, he half-heartedly laughed, "I do what I can."

With the sun finally hidden below the horizon, the stars were able to shine dimly while the moon took center stage, a slight chill filling the air. Rubbing her arms as she, too, stared out at the darkness. Ursa frowned, worry lines forming on her brow. "Are you sure it's safe for you to go that far on your own? Maybe I should fly you over on Appa."

"No, no, that's not –"

"It's just a big risk to take this close to the Comet."

"What is?" Sokka asked, moving closer to the pair. Katara had wandered off to talk to Iroh and Zuko, standing just out of earshot and leaving Aang and Ursa in relative privacy.

"Nothing," the Avatar assured him. Gesturing to the sky, he told Ursa, "It's night time; no one will see me."

"And what if they do? Your friends will be stranded without transportation, plus defeating Ozai will be hopeless even if they _do_ get to Ba Sing Se."

"But –"

"You're coming with me," she said, tone carrying that same finality his had moments earlier.

"I think she's right, Aang," Sokka said, having nodded along with everything she said. For a moment, he paused to think, then – eyes widening slightly – added, "Actually, maybe I should come, too. I mean, if The Mechanist has any half-finished war balloons lying around for us to take, it'd probably be smarter to take _me_ to _them_ instead of the other way around."

Aang huffed, but agreed nonetheless.

After all their farewells were said and last minute changes arranged, the trio climbed onto Appa's back, waving to their family one last time before Aang flicked the reins and shouted, "Yip-yip!" The bison took off, gliding away from the temple and steadily higher into the sky until he was just a vague silhouette on the almost-full moon. He groaned as if to say "goodbye" before disappearing completely into the night.

XxXx

Sprawled across her bed on her back, Toph let the familiarity of silk sheets and an ultra-plush mattress sink in. It was just like being home again, surrounded by luxury, the best of everything money could buy, but deprived of what she wanted (_needed_) most. A brief sense of helplessness tugged at her; what if she was never able to escape? What if she had just gotten lucky with her parents?

Shaking the thought from her head, she reminded herself that things were different this time. For one thing, she had a lot more freedom than her parents would ever consider giving her.

Oddly enough, as Azula seemed to sink further and further into madness, she gave Toph more and more privileges, to the point that she now had her own room and could go almost anywhere she pleased in the palace, no guards or shoes required – a massive relief, especially with her feet healed and seeing at full strength. It was both incredibly awesome (sabotage was a child's game when she didn't have to worry about guards peeking over her shoulder), and incredibly off-putting.

Because, well, there had to be a _reason_ for it other than "Princess Psycho has lost her marbles". What was so special about Toph that she was trusted above all the guards and servants? She hadn't _done_ anything for Azula except listen to her seethe about Mai and Ty Lee and rant about the joy of world conquest and promise to stand by Azula as the world fell to ash . . .

"Toph!"

The girl in question jumped, unable to sense princess' footsteps through her thick mattress. Getting up off the bed, she managed a smile and said, "Yes, Firestorm?" The nickname was Azula's idea; it was hard not to cringe just hearing it.

Striding across the room, Azula plopped down on the bed, crossing on leg over the other as she declared, "Father has left."

Understanding dawned instantly – with Ozai gone, Azula was in control and free to make what she deemed desperately needed changes. This mostly meant she was going to fire (Toph wasn't sure how literal the term was in this context) over half the palace employees. Ever since she had realized this opportunity, Azula hadn't been able to shut about it. Every day was filled with whispers of "He'll have to go" and "Maybe she can stay" and "These palanquin bearers are quite pathetic, don't you agree?". Anytime someone would make a promise to Azula she would nudge Toph in the ribs, prompting her to nod true or false based on heartbeats. It was almost enough to drive her crazy.

"We're going to have to hire a whole new set of mechanics and engineers for our warships," she said, inspecting a chipped fingernail with a squint and a frown. "Father's flight was delayed half an hour because so many of the ships were half broken."

"Oh really?" Toph asked, trying to sound innocently intrigued. She plucked at the new Fire Nation garb Azula had insisted be custom made for her, appreciating the quality of the soft material. "That sucks."

She sighed, seemingly in agreement. "Now the fleet being sent for the invasion is pathetically small."

It was hard to keep her face neutral as she asked, "Do you think it'll affect the outcome of the battle?"

"Oh, Agni no," Azula snorted. "Even if your little Avatar friend does show up –"

"He's not my friend," she forced herself to blurt, the words like nails on slate to her fine-tuned ears. Her gut twisted as familiar loneliness fell over her.

A subtle vibration suggested the princess had tilted her head, maybe raised her eyebrows, her voice betraying a small smile, "Of course. How could I forget?"

Toph remained silent, unable to spit out a sentence around the lump settling into her throat.

"As I was saying – even if the Avatar _does_ show up, he won't stand a chance against the combined power of father's fleet and Sozin's Comet. No one does; that's why we planned for so many extra ships to fly with him. He was going to lead attacks against strong holds all over the world. I guess now we'll have to settle for torching the important ones."

A cold, heavy feeling spread through Toph's limbs, seeming to anchor her to the floor. "Wh . . . Where else . . . ?"

"Well," Azula said, head tilting as if in thought as she leaned back on her hands, legs still crossed. The pose was too casual for the news she delivered. "We had hoped to conquer Ba Sing Se as well as the Northern Air Temple, those Freedom Rebels or whatever their called that run around in the woods near Gaipan, and the Northern Water Tribe, but . . . With our current fleet size, we'll just have to settle for Ba Sing Se and the Northern Water Tribe."

'_The Northern Water Tribe_?' Toph thought, dread continuing to spill over her. Would the others be able to get there in time? How would they even _know_? She had to warn them somehow, let them know the full extent of the Fire Lord's plans. But how? It wasn't like she could send them a letter – Azula would intercept it, plus she didn't even know how to –

Wait . . .

"Can I . . ." she started, choosing her words carefully. "Can I write a letter? To my parents? I ran away from home to join Aang and . . . Well, they're probably freaking out, but I want them to know I'm alright."

There was silence for a moment as Azula seemed to eye her. Then she rose to her feet and headed for the desk. "What do you want to tell them?"

Moving so fast she almost stumbled, Toph practically leapt onto the chair to prevent the princess from seating herself and taking authority over the writing process. As she scrambled, she explained, "I can write! I'm an Earth Kingdom noble, so I had a lot of personal tutors for this kind of thing."

'You're _blind_."

"Yeah, well, my attendant guided my hand the whole time, but I think I can remember the patterns." As she spoke, she struggled to recall the forms Zuko had helped her carve into her bedroom wall. A stab of homesickness hit once more as she said, confidence in the statement overwhelming, "They'll be able to read it. They know me."

There was a pause before Azula conceded, voice laced with scepticism. Toph didn't hesitate in setting to work, rolling out a sheet of parchment and grabbing a brush and an inkwell. She dipped the bristles in the tiny pot, hating that she couldn't see how deep, then – feeling along the top of the parchment with her free hand – pressed it against the sheet, dragging it down in a gentle stroke. When she moved to make another line, however, her sleeve dragged through the fresh ink. Cursing, she gingerly fingered the wet spot on the paper, determining that it was incomprehensible even as a simple line.

"Here," Azula said from beside her, reaching for her arm. Wrapping the sleeve around Toph's wrist, she pinned it in place with a hairpin so it was flush with her skin and had no chance of dragging. There was uncharacteristic gentleness in the action, sending questions spiralling through Toph's mind. She pushed them aside, tried to concentrate on remembering shapes that made sounds.

While she wrote, Azula returned to her place on the bed and talked. Not about war or politics or incompetent people. Instead, she talked about family.

"I wonder what it would be like to be the eldest sometimes," she mused idly while Toph focused on the strokes of her first word. "For one thing, I would have the right to the throne by birth, especially if my younger sibling was a sister. There'd be no fighting for it with someone as unworthy as _Zuko_."

Fury knifed through her veins. Toph forced herself to take a deep breath and just listen.

"I could teach her things. Firebending, military strategy, how to put her hair in a topknot . . . Useful things. I would be in charge of her, make sure she didn't make the same stupid mistakes as Zuzu . . . We would never abandon each other."

Silence descended again as Toph continued to write, pausing on occasion to press her fingertip to the desk and try to remember the pattern of carving a certain word. After a moment, Azula resumed speaking. "Mai has a younger brother, you know. She doesn't really care, though – he's far too young to do much of anything with. If I had a sister, I'd want her close to my age. Ty Lee has sisters, too – six of them, I think. They all look the same and are a bit . . . eccentric." There was another pause, a slight shift in posture. "Do you have any siblings?"

Toph's mind immediately turned to her friends, faces and words flying through her thoughts – Katara (overbearing, protective, dependable), Sokka (goofy, clever, obnoxious), Zuko (patient, stern, warm) . . . . She wasn't sure Azula would understand it, the loyalty that could be earned without using fear to control, plus she had her cover to worry about, so she just shook her head.

The strangest sense of contentment filled the air at that, reigning supreme as Toph made her last brush stroke. Sitting back, she tried to picture the words she had written as she waited for the ink to dry.

"Ozai. Attack. Ba Sing Se. North Pole. -_Toph_."

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for late update. xP I just wasn't really sure how much I liked this chapter - I considered completely rewriting it, but in the end I decided it was fine the way ti was. I hope my choice wasn't a mistake!_

_And for those of you who don't know, _Zutara Week_ starts tomorrow, so you can expect drabbles from me then. =D_

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.**


	44. Chapter 44

Waiting was Katara's least favourite part of any plan.

There was no way of knowing what was going on with the others – had the Northern Air Temple been taken over by the Fire Nation for real this time? Could Appa make the trip? Were Aang and Sokka and Ursa still safe, still together? There was too much to go wrong and nothing to distract her from the possibilities. She wished, more than anything, that the three were still right where she could see them, protected by allies and seclusion.

'_Wow_,' she thought, standing on one of the bridges connecting the separate mountains of the temple, leaning against the railing and grimacing. '_If I'm this anxious now, what am I going to do when everyone else is in Ba Sing Se_?'

Then again, maybe she would be too busy saving Toph to really worry about anyone else. That would certainly make things easier – there was nothing more terrifying than one's own imagination when waiting for the reality of a situation to rear its ugly head (though, maybe it would have a lovely head. That was the thing; there was no way of knowing how these things would turn out).

Tilting her face up to the sun, she sucked in a lungful of pristine mountain air, letting it out slowly. The others would be _fine_ – they were probably on their way back now, gliding along in airships loaded with allies from the other temple. The Fire Nation would be too busy prepping for the attack on Ba Sing Se to care about one measly inventor. She had absolutely no reason to worry.

A loud _bang_ sounded. Katara jerked her head toward it, dull pain shooting through her neck at the abruptness of the action, only to see smoke billowing high into the sky.

An explosion.

Without thought, she ran across the bridge in the direction of the smoke, pausing only to note the buildings near it and mark the destination on her mental map of the temple. Her footsteps echoed on the stone floors and walls as she dashed into one of the corridors, the noise ricocheting in every direction so it sounded like someone was following her. Hairs on the back of her neck already standing on end, she chanced a glance over her shoulder – nothing.

Then she was bursting out of the shadowed hall into a sunlit courtyard full of debris and overgrown with vegetation. Directly across from her was a wide plateau that walled off the entire backend of the square, a crumbling and cracked and generally unstable staircase leading up to it. Beside it, someone had hastily deployed a rope ladder, hanging slightly lopsided and fluttering in the breeze.

Another explosion sounded, causing the earth to tremble and the staircase to shed a layer of dirt.

Drawing a breath, Katara ran to the other side of the courtyard, grabbed a woven rung, and proceeded to climb.

"What –" she started to as she pulled herself onto the flat top of the plateau, gaze darting in search of the attacker. Instead she found Zuko sprawled on his back, wincing, the ground smouldering a few feet away. Rushing closer, she kneeled at his side and drew a globe of water from the pouch at her hip. "Where are you hurt?"

Propping himself up on his elbows, he shook his head and forced a reassuring smile, saying, "It's just a couple bruises – no need to waste your energy."

"What . . ." She looked from him to the rising smoke and back again, brow knit and water still at the ready. "What happened?"

"I still can't make lightning."

When Katara continued to look confused, he sighed and got to his feet, gesturing for her to step back. Then, moving his hands in slow circles, he inhaled deeply and locked his gaze on the now-blackened spot of earth; his target. A mixture of fear and excitement swelled in Katara's gut as she pictured blue sparks leaping between his pointed fingers, remembering how Azula had used the technique with such cold precision.

Zuko brought his fingers together, held them still for an instant, then shot one finger straight out.

The air in front of him exploded, throwing him backward.

Katara rushed back to his side as Zuko sat upright with a grimace, extending her hand toward him and smiling sympathetically. Accepting her hand, he allowed her to pull him to his feet, his back cracking at the movement and her fingers tingling at his touch.

"So, what exactly is going wrong?" she asked, quickly withdrawing her hand and stepping back, all too aware that she _liked_ him and he _liked_ her and they were going to be alone together on a potentially deadly mission but they couldn't be _together_ because of Ursa and politics andandand –

He stared at, bewildered. Oh no – had she said any of that aloud?

Apparently not, because his next words were: "I keep creating an _explosion_. What do you mean, 'What's wrong'?"

"No, I know that! I just mean, _why_? Why are things exploding instead of . . . lightning-ing?"

Dear Yue, she was losing her mind.

Running a hand through his hair (Had it gotten longer? Should she offer to cut it? Would that be weird?), he sighed in frustration. "I don't know. Before it was because I had inner turmoil and couldn't achieve peace of mind, but I'm over that now. My head is clear, I'm on the right path . . ." he finished with a low growl, kicking a loose rock into the courtyard below.

Watching it fall and skip across the cracked earth, Katara wracked her brain for helpful advice and words of encouragement. She drew a blank, mind bouncing between the images of Azula cackling evilly while lightning flashed behind her and Zuko heroically (and, strangely, _shirtlessly_) catching a bolt in his bare hands, then throwing it back into the sky. That was all she knew about lightning, or at least all the information her mind was willing to cough up at the moment.

"Why do you need it?" she asked, instead. "Lightning, I mean?"

Staring out across the horizon with a distant, troubled expression, Zuko said, "I'm going to be facing Azula – I need all the fire power I can get."

"_We_," she corrected, moving closer and touching his arm, reassuring him while also prompting him to meet her gaze. Smiling encouragingly, she tried to ignore the pleasant warmth of his skin and continued, "_We're_ facing Azula, together. Plus, we're being sneaky about it – with any luck, she'll never even know we were –"

But Zuko was already shaking his head, knuckles popping as he balled his hands into tight fists. "We _have _to face her eventually if we want a proper ruler on the throne. Both uncle and I are viewed as traitors, so father would have Azula as his heir."

"So . . . we actually have to . . . _kill_ her? Not just hold her off long enough to grab Toph and go?"

"That or prove her mentally unfit to rule. Seeing as there once was a Fire Lord who banned pickles because they were 'evil' and declared war on anyone who ate them, I'd say we're stuck with the first option."

Katara's gut twisted at the thought, the image of blood on snow flashing through her mind. Despite seeing the war at its ugliest and hating Azula for all she was worth, the idea of _killing _her was hard to process. Killing Azula meant Katara would _be_ a killer, and that just didn't _fit_ – she was a healer, she saved lives and thwarted the Spirit World's efforts to steal her loved ones.

But they were in a war and didn't have time for hesitation or alterations or putting the future Fire Lord on trial for her sanity.

"Hey," Zuko said softly, noticing her distress. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he gave it the slightest of squeezes and offered a small smile. "Don't worry about it – I can take care or Azula, with or without lightning."

Swallowing and forcing her expression to one of determination, Katara shook her head firmly. "No, I'm helping you. We're a team."

A frown tugged at his lips. Before he could protest, however, a shriek drew his attention skyward, where a dragon-hawk was swooping down toward them. Lifting his arm in an almost reflexive manner, Zuko winced as the bird took its perch, talons digging into his skin.

Stepping closer, Katara slid off the scroll that had been attached to its leg and unrolled it. She stared. Then she tiled her head and squinted. "It . . . It's a bunch of scribbles."

"Let me see."

Turning it to him, Katara watched as Zuko squinted and inclined his head in much the same way she had before finally declaring, "It's a letter from Toph. I'm not sure what it says, but . . . being able to send this means she's safe. In the palace with Azula, but safe."

"How do you know it's from the palace? Toph could've escaped and bought her own dragon-hawk."

"This is my _personal_ dragon-hawk," Zuko explained, stroking the bird's feathers. It ruffled its wings, the action forcing it to dig its talons in further if Zuko's gasp of pain was any indication. Through gritted teeth, he continued, "It knows my scent and can find me anywhere in the world."

"_What_?" Immediately, she started scanning the horizon for signs of an airship, sputtering, "Azula! The palace! She could've – that bird could've led her right to us!"

The animal in question squawked, turning its head so one eye looked sharply at her as if insulted.

"Dragon-hawks are incredibly prideful – if Azula or any of the royal guards tried to follow it, it would believe they doubted its abilities and be hugely offended." Smirking as he glanced between her and the bird piercing bloody holes in his arm, he added, "And you do _not_ want to deal with an angry dragon-hawk."

"Oh. Um . . ." Stepping back, Katara eyed the bird warily. "Sorry, uh, Zuko's bird. Didn't mean to upset you." Then, gaze dropping to where it perched, she winced and asked, "Do you want me to heal that?"

Zuko grimaced. "Please."

XxXx

Something dark passed over the sun, casting a brief shadow over the temple. Was it a ship? Jet squinted; no, just a cloud. Sighing, he closed his eyes and massaged them gently, a halo-shaped afterimage dancing across his eyelids. Still no sign of Aang or the others. The day of the Comet loomed closer and everyone was growing antsy, him especially – if anything happened to the Avatar, they were pretty well screwed.

What was taking them so long, anyway? Weren't the airships supposed to be already built?

Though, knowing their luck, The Mechanic or whatever he was called would only give them a pile of parts and a confusing set of instructions. Or _nothing_. Who was to say the Northern Air Temple was even a secure location? The Fire Nation knew the colony there existed and had exploited them in the past and, now that they had airships at their disposal, attacking it would be easier than any of the raids the Freedom Fighters ever led (and some of those had been _incredibly_ simple).

If it was up to him, Aang wouldn't be involved at all. But, hey, if the Avatar wanted to risk his neck rounding up some support before the big, ultimate battle, who was he to argue against that?

"You'll burn your eyes out staring at the sun."

Jet suppressed a groan, turning to face Mai with a look of mild annoyance. Try as he might, he could never quite match her blank-slate expression. "What do you want?"

Shrugging, she continued to wordlessly study him in a manner that somehow managed to encompass both boredom and curiosity. The only thing more unnerving than her talking to him was her _not_ talking to him, if only because there was absolutely no way to tell what she was thinking. Letting out a short growl, he resumed squinting at the sun. For a moment they just stood in silence, a gentle breeze tugging at their hair and clothes.

"It . . ." Mai finally said, a trace of uncertainty in her voice. "It's fun."

Jet glanced over his shoulder, brow furrowed.

"Annoying you is fun."

He snorted. "What? Am I your new hobby or something?"

". . . I guess."

His scowl returned in full force. Great – now he not only had to _work_ with the enemy, but he had to endure her twisted idea of fun. Clearly, the universe loved making him miserable (as did Mai, evidently).

Worse, he couldn't even _do_ anything about it. He couldn't attack her like he so often wanted to, thanks to her being an "ally", and he couldn't harass her in return because she never _reacted_. It was like picking a fight with a stone wall; no one would condone it and there was no way to win.

As far as he was concerned, the Comet couldn't come quick enough.

"Is that what you've been waiting for?"

Following the direction Mai indicated, Jet looked up at the cloud spotted sky and saw a small cluster of dark shapes moving closer. At such a distance they could've been birds, but as they neared the temple they were distinguishable as airships with blue arrows hastily painted on them.

Aang was back. It was time to kick some ass.

XxXx

"Are you sure it's from Toph?" Sokka asked as he studied the ink spattered piece of paper, leaning against the gondola of massive airship he had flown in on. The group – which included "Team Avatar", the White Lotus Society, and Teo as well as several other Northern Air Temple residents – had assembled in a wide space of the Eastern Air Temple originally intended for sky bison, the only place big enough to hold all of them plus the three dirigibles they had acquired.

It was a lot to take in – not just the hulking masses of metal with bright blue arrows painted along each side, but all the familiar (not to mention some unfamiliar) faces gathered around, listening to the discussion the recent arrival of a letter. The dusty and disused, sun-bleached stone temple was suddenly vibrant, full of life.

Katara, deciding they should go into battle donning the colours of their respective nations instead of their red disguises, had busied herself during the slow, tense weeks at the Eastern Air temple by modifying everyone's old clothes. Well, everyone save herself and Zuko; she had sewn entirely new, simple black outfits for them as soon as it was decided that they would be saving Toph, expecting it to be a stealthy job. The only people who outright declined her offer were the White Lotus, who opted to wear their robes instead ("I'd say it's time we show the world the strength of us old folk, wouldn't you?" Bumi had cackled).

"Positive," Zuko said in answer to Sokka's question, standing beside him with arms crossed. "I can't read all of it, but I know that's her signature."

"What does the rest of it say?"

He shrugged. "Something about Ozai and a city. I'm assuming she's just trying to tell us she's in the capital."

"You guys had better hurry then," said Aang, who stood at Sokka's other side, looking up from the letter to Zuko and Katara. "Maybe you'll be able to get to the palace before the Comet arrives."

"I somehow doubt that," Zuko muttered.

Jet, standing across from the four friends, donned his usual frown and said, "It could be a trap. How do we know Azula didn't write that and send Toph to the Boiling Rock or something?"

"We don't," Katara admitted with a shrug. "But we still have to try. Trap or no trap, Toph needs saving and Azula needs butt-kicking."

"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Sokka said, straightening away from the airship while shooting his sister a bewildered look. "Butt-kicking? I thought the plan was to go all Blue-Spirit-and-Paint-Lady stealth mission!"

Raising an eyebrow, Zuko glanced at Katara, a question on his slightly upturned lips. Thankfully, he refrained from voicing his curiosity and simply informed Sokka of the need to face Azula. "Right now, she's the heir to the throne. The only way to ensure uncle becomes the next Fire Lord is if she's dead."

"So you're charging in – just the two of you – against a super-powerful, Comet-enhanced, lightning-bolt-throwing, crazy lady that _all of us_ –" Sokka gestured to the original group "– couldn't even keep at bay . . . _Are you insane_?"

"It's not like we have a choice," Zuko snapped, eyes narrowing. "Ba Sing Se is the priority; _you_ need all the fighters you can get."

"I think we have a few to spare," Piandao said, gaze sweeping meaningfully over the large crowd assembled. "Three or four warriors won't make such a difference on a battlefield like Ba Sing Se."

After further discussion, it was eventually decided that Zuko and Katara would face off against Azula with the help of Teo (who knew how to operate the airship), Jet, and Mai. There priority was to get Toph to safety – preferably on the airship – then take out Azula and her guards using whatever means necessary. If all went according to plan and they were still in well enough shape to fight, they would head to Ba Sing Se.

In the meantime, the others would travel to the aforementioned walled city and divide their efforts between the sky and the ground so that Aang could focus all his energy on killing Ozai. When told he couldn't stop for anything until his job was finished, however, Aang was reluctant to agree.

"What if you guys are in serious trouble? I can't just _not_ help you!"

"Yes, you can," Iroh said sternly, his usual jovial attitude seeming to have completely vanished. "Your priority is killing the Fire Lord so that my nephew may seize the throne. If you waver from that for any reason, we could lose the most important part of the battle. At this stage, helping your friends will only hurt the rest of the world.

Aang fell silent, head drooping as if the old man's words carried physical weight.

With their duties outlined and the time before the Comet growing shorter, everyone began piling into the airships, tossing out wishes of luck and "goodbye"s as they went. Katara felt as if her insides had tied themselves in knots and were trying to evacuate via her throat. This was it. This was where everything could go horribly, irreversibly downhill.

"Hey."

The simple syllable carried both impatience and concern, prompting her to turn away from her friends climbing into the other two airships and look up at the entry to her own. Zuko stood with his hand extended to her, brow slightly furrowed. Behind him, Jet managed to ignore his hatred for the people on either side of him and stared down at Katara expectantly. Mai had her arms crossed, expression bored even as her gaze seemed to drill into Katara's skull, clearly looking for explanation of the delay. Teo, who had already rolled over to the steering wheel and was all prepped for take-off, looked back at them, asking, "What's the hold up?"

"Nothing," Katara answered quickly, taking Zuko's hand and letting him help her up into the cockpit. "Let's fly."

XxXx

The rough cliffs of the vast canyon below gave way to a cerulean bay divided by a thin, winding strip of land, the enormous walls of Ba Sing Se a mere speck in the distance. They drifted along at a steady pace, but it wasn't near fast enough for Ozai. He could feel the Comet approaching, its power beginning to course through his veins like lava bubbling out of a volcano. The slightest hint of crimson began to colour the sky.

Finally, a century since its beginning, he would finish what his grandfather had started.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for the delay! Part of it is 'cause of Zutara Week, but mostly I just found this chapter hard to write. There's a lot of people and things to keep track of - I hope it all makes sense. xD Also, writer's block seems to enjoy rearing it's ugly head when I actually have plenty of free time to write. Oh,the irony!_

_Tell me what you guys think!_

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	45. Chapter 45

"Are we almost there?" Sokka asked the Northern Air Temple girl piloting the airship, staring out the window at the rapidly reddening sky. Everything around them had been tainted by the colour, and he couldn't help thinking that this was what a world ruled by the Fire Nation would look like – all crimson and scarlet and sanguine and amaranth.

"Yeah," the girl, Chojo, said. Her gloved hands tightened around the steering wheel, small green eyes fixed on the horizon as uncertainty began to line her round face. As far as Sokka could tell, she was a little older than Zuko and a lot less experienced in battle, much as she tried to hide that fact. Reaching up to adjust her hair, which was tied back, she asked, "You really think we can do this?"

"Yes."

Gaze snapping toward him, she stared, startled at how firmly he had answered.

Squaring his jaw as he watched the Comet cut a path through the clouds, he said, "We have to."

This seemed to comfort her somewhat, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she returned her attention to navigating. Nonetheless, they jumped when the door to the cockpit creaked open, half expecting Ozai himself to emerge. Thankfully, it was only Piandao.

"We're almost there," Chojo said automatically; he was the third person to come asking.

He nodded but didn't leave, eyes locked on the view through the large windshield. "It gets dark rather quickly, doesn't it?"

Not sure who he was addressing, they both just bobbed their heads in mute agreement. Below, the desert faded away and Chameleon Bay took its place, the still waters reflecting red and lined with –

"Fire Nation ships," Piandao said tensely. In the distance, they could faintly see the towering city wall, a large section of it obscured by thick smoke. He glanced at Sokka. "Any ideas?"

"What? Wh-why are you asking me?"

"You've always seemed to be full of plans in the past."

"Idea Guy," he muttered, shock shifting to resignation as he looked out at the warships ahead. "Right."

"This thing's loaded with bombs," Chojo offered, hand already hovering over the appropriate lever expectantly. "Want me to blow them outta the water?"

Frowning, Sokka mulled over their options. If they blew up the ships, the soldiers would have no supplies and no way to retreat. But did they want that – did they to trap all the soldiers in the city, or would it be better for them to run off? Plus, there was probably a limited amount of explosives. Would they be best spent on the ships, or in the city? Wait, no, they couldn't use them within Ba Sing Se; they would blow up their own allies, not to mention innocent civilians . . .

"What other weapons does this thing carry?"

"There's some side-mounted canon's for ship-to-ship combat, plus firebenders can be harnessed to catwalks below to attack airborne and land-based enemies," Chojo rattled off, clearly pleased at her superior understanding. Then, seeing Sokka's expression, she hastily added, "I'm sure it would work for other benders, too, it's just that the Mechanist designed these specifically for firebenders."

"Right," he said, gazing out the window once more. They were directly over the warships at this point; it was now or never. Drawing a breath, he balled his hands into fists and, in as steely a voice as he could muster, commanded, "Bombs away."

XxXx

Staring out the window of her own airship, Katara fingered a vial hidden in the folds of her black outfit. It felt strange carrying it again, its smooth sides brushing against her skin in constant reminder that – no matter what condition they found her in – she could save Toph. If it wasn't for Pakku asking her about it while everyone was scrambling to gather their things that morning, she would have forgotten it even existed.

The cockpit was quiet and tense. Beside her, Teo sat at the wheel, the seat of his wheelchair elevated so he had a clear view through the windshield. His focus was entirely directed at the gauges and levers and cloudless, blood-red sky as they drifted over a mountain range near the southern edge of the Earth Kingdom. Behind her, Jet leaned against the wall and plucked absent-mindedly at the cheap cotton of his new, olive green, sleeveless shirt. His pants were of a tougher weave and the same dark brown as his boots, and he seemed rather relieved to be free of Fire Nation colours at last. Zuko had left to tend to the fires of the engine room while Mai, declaring that the cockpit was dull, had wandered off elsewhere.

"We're almost there," Teo announced suddenly, eyes never straying from the horizon. Below, the towering mountain peaks gave way to rugged cliffs pounded by white-crested, crimson waves – they were at the coast of the Earth Kingdom.

"How much longer will it be, exactly?" Jet asked, an edge of impatience in his voice.

"Another hour, maybe less if the wind stays in our favour."

This was answered by the distinct _thunk_ as the back of Jet's head met the cockpit's metal walls. As irritating as his seemingly-perpetual foul mood was, Katara found she could relate; compared to flying on Appa, the airship felt like an airborne snail. It was pure torture watching the landscape drift by below while the sky reddened ominously. With the Comet present and accounted for, who knew what horrible things Toph was enduring at the hands of Azula?

XxXx

"You filthy, traitorous _wretch_!" Azula shrieked at the girl cowering at her feet, face twisted into a livid expression. "You really thought you'd get away with it? Thought I wouldn't _notice_? You good-for-nothing, vile, back-stabbing . . ."

"Pl-please, if you'd just let me explain –"

But Azula wasn't listening, staring down at her through slit eyes, her lip curling. "You leave me no choice."

"_No_!" She threw her hands over her face, continuing to plead fruitlessly –

"You're banished!"

The servant froze, eyes widening as the meaning of the statement registered. Looking up at the princess, she struggled for words. Then, seeming to think better of it, she offered a brief-but-deep bow before jumping to her feet and high-tailing it out of the throne room.

Feeling the girl's frantic heartbeat fade into the distance, Toph frowned in Azula's general direction. "Don't you think that was a bit over-kill?"

Scowling down at the blind girl seated on the steps leading to her throne, Azula crossed one leg over the other and straightened to her most regal posture. "She's slipped me a cherry pit one too many times. It's obviously sabotage – father should have banished her ages ago."

Stifling a sigh, Toph leaned back on the steps, pressing her feet firmly to the ground and searching the palace for some trace of the servants and guards who usually roamed the corridors. Though, given the rate at which Azula had been handing out banishments, she wouldn't have been surprised if they were the only ones left.

It was kind of eerie, listening to Azula kick people out of the palace for such minor offenses as smiling or frowning or slouching or standing taller than her, while she, the "former" enemy, was allowed to walk around in her filthy bare feet, spitting in potted plants and addressing the temporary Fire Lord in as informal a manner as possible. One the one hand, she couldn't exactly complain – not being engulfed in a rage of blue flames was always a good thing in her book. Still, she couldn't help wondering _why_ . . .

Maybe it was her ability to detect lies – Azula had been decidedly paranoid lately, so having someone who could verify the honesty of the people around her was bound to be something of a reassurance.

"It was rather pathetic, don't you agree?" the girl in question said, now slumping back in her throne and speaking in a tone that suggested utmost boredom and disappointment. "She was so terrified – even _I_ could tell she was shaking. Such a sad example of a human being . . . If she was truly loyal, she would have no reason to fear me. I must say, it's a relief having someone who isn't a complete coward around here – when a guard is afraid of its master, how am I to believe it can protect me from any real threat?"

She went on talking about fear and loyalty and strength, though with each sentence it felt less and less like she was addressing Toph and was instead rambling pointlessly, something that was becoming an increasingly common occurrence. Only half listening to her rant, Toph mulled over her words. Was that what this was about? Having someone strong and unafraid close by? Well, that would _kind_ of make sense, considering the princess' paranoia. Maybe it was that and the lie-detecting combined.

"I should have smelled it off Mai and Ty Lee the day I met them – putrid, rotting fear. Never should have let them in. I should have killed them right there on the playground. Watched them burn . . . Well, soon enough. Sozin's Comet will raise the Fire Nation rule to new heights – we won't tolerate traitors."

It was odd – Toph could hear all the anger and hate in Azula's words, yet all her body signals indicated she was perfectly calm. Peaceful, even.

"They'll be – _what was that_?" she snapped, cutting her own tirade short as she jumped to her feet, now full of tension and unease.

"I didn't hear anything," Toph lied, concentrating on locating the source of the mechanical whirring. The sound was coming from somewhere above, but she couldn't pinpoint the exact location, her unique sight rendered useless by its disconnection from the ground. In spite of this, she still had a fair idea of what was flying over the palace – airships, either piloted by her friends coming after Azula, or Fire Nation soldiers returning from one of the invasions. Praying for the former, she said, "I bet it's just a headache – dealing with all these stupid low-lives must be stressing you out. Just . . . sit down and meditate or whatever. I'm sure it'll pass."

Azula, however, either didn't hear this or chose to ignore it, striding purposefully toward the heavy red curtains separating the throne room from the corridors, her footfalls echoing ominously in the cavernous room. Toph hurried to follow, wanting to be in a good position to strike if it was her friends; it would be a lot easier for everyone involved if the princess was up to her chin in stone. As they wound their way through the palace halls, Toph searched for some trace vibration that would tell her what to expect, focusing hard on following the sound overhead.

Then the airship touched down on the palace's well-groomed front lawn, jolting abruptly into view. They were incredibly close – only one corridor and set of doors separated her and Azula from their guests. One moment's deep concentration revealed to her exactly who was waiting in the ship.

Zuko, Katara, Jet, and Mai were already making their way out onto the palace grounds, moving slow and cautious, clearly unaware that Azula had just finished firing every member of the royal guard along with all her servants. A wheelchair-bound boy she didn't recognize remained in the cockpit, stationed at the controls.

"Can you see anything?" Azula asked suddenly, standing barely a meter away from the doors hiding the intruders from view.

"No," Toph said innocently. Then, stomping one foot and thrusting both arms upward, she raised thick slabs of the stone floor in a circle around Azula, angled in toward her chin. Smirking, she waved a hand past her eyes and added, "I'm _blind_, remember?'

It seemed to take a moment for Azula to comprehend what exactly had just happened, her eyes wide and jaw slightly slack. Then, face twisting lividly, she let out a blood-curdling shriek.

"_You_!" she screamed, ignoring the doors as they burst open behind her, staring, wild-eyed, down at Toph. "You traitor! You _back-stabbing bitch_!"

"The word 'traitor' implies I was actually on your side in the first place," Toph said coolly as she passed the raging princess, joining her (very confused) friends. To them she grinned and said, "'Bout time you guys showed up! Who'd you send up North?"

"What?" Katara said, pausing as she ushered Toph out the door. "Why would . . ."

Cold spread through Toph as though she had been dunked in an ice bath, her stomach plummeting. "You . . . you didn't get my letter?"

There was a pause during which the only sounds were Azula's shrieks ("Get back here, filthy peasant! I'm not finished with you! Release me and fight! Coward! Traitor!"). Despite not being able to see them, Toph sensed her friends exchanging looks.

"We did," Zuko said, sounding hesitant, "but . . ."

"But _what_? You didn't read it?"

"We _couldn't_ read it."

"But – You . . ."Toph stammered, unable to find the right words in her disbelief. What was wrong with him! He, of all people, should have been able to read her letter; _he taught her to write_!

"What did the letter say?" Zuko demanded, reading her panicked expression (at least he could read _something_).

"The invasion – it's not just Ba Sing Se," Toph said in a rush, trying to focus on anything but Katara's frantically skittering heart. "They're after the Northern Water Tribe, too."

There was a sharp intake of breath; Katara seemed to have frozen like the ice she bent. Swearing, Zuko clenched a fistful of his own hair while Jet, standing just behind him, tensed, heart rate leaping momentarily. Even Mai's breathing hitched in shock.

"We have to go," Katara said firmly an instant later, already marching off toward the airship. Zuko caught her elbow to stop her, however, and even Toph knew she was throwing him her most withering look. He hesitated then, with a sigh, released her.

"Go," he said, stepping backward toward the still-open doors of the palace, where Azula was now hissing fire. "Take Toph, go to the North, and do what you can to help."

The angry tension quickly seeped from Katara even as Jet was grabbing Toph by the shoulder and dragging her toward the airship ("Let go! I can walk on my own!"). As Katara moved closer to Zuko, Toph detected the slightest shift in pulse and had to suppress a grin; it was about time Sugar Queen stopped acting like the _real_ blind chick of the bunch.

"Zuko," she started, "you can't –"

A thunderous crash and roar of outrage interrupted her as, blue flames contrasting starkly with the crimson sky, Azula shattered her encasement. Inhaling and exhaling rapidly through her gritted teeth, she took an unsteady step toward the group, fists clenched and smoking. Her eyes landed on Toph, flicked over the others, before finally settling on Mai. _"You_."

Turning to Katara, Zuko spoke in a tone that offered no room for argument. "Go!"

"No," she said, just as firm. Uncorking one of the waterskins weighting her hips, she bent out an arc of water to shield her friends from a sudden onslaught of fire, shouting to be heard over the hiss of smoke and roar of flames, "We're fighting her _together_!"

Thrusting her arms over her head, Toph raised a wall of earth as tall as the palace, separating them from Azula. "What about the North?"

"The rest of you can take care of it. We'll meet you there when we've finished."

There was a wordless shriek of undiluted fury as lightning shattered the stone fortification. Everyone scattered, throwing their hands over their heads to shield themselves from the shower of rocks. Mai and Toph hurried toward the waiting airship, but Jet lingered a moment longer.

Fixing Zuko with a glare, he hissed, "If you hurt her –"

"I'll protect Katara," he said, meeting Jet's gaze with narrowed eyes. "Now go."

Throwing one last threatening look over his shoulder, Jet disappeared into the airship. A moment later its propellers whirred to life and it began to lift into the sky, fighting to be heard over the fight that had broken out below.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Yes, the war has finally begun. _

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	46. Chapter 46

The city of Ba Sing Se was in flames.

The Outer Wall was, at least. A raging inferno travelled across the farmland at a steady pace, aided by the hundred or so firebenders marching behind it. Sozin's Comet burned brightly overhead, making it seem as though heaven and earth had both been engulfed in flames. Farther away, beyond the Inner Wall, Fire Nation airships began to drop their cargo of explosives, each destructive blast unheard at such a distance.

"Aang?"

Jerking his gaze away from the devastating view out the window, the boy in question met the steady stare or Iroh.

"It's time for you to go."

Swallowing around a boulder that had lodged itself in his throat, Aang nodded and tightened his grip on his staff. There was nothing to worry about. He just had to stay focused on Ozai . . .

With one last all-too-calm command from Iroh, the middle-aged man piloting the ship pulled a lever that opened the hatch separating the cockpit from the open sky. Wind and smoke rushed in and Aang acted almost without thought, leaping out. As he plummeted toward the earth, he spun open his glider and was immediately caught by an updraft. Then he was soaring over the destruction, the freeing sensation of flight overtaking him.

He could do this; this was _his_ element.

Gliding over acre after acre of crops, Aang rushed toward the massive stone wall enclosing the city. As he approached, houses of the Upper Ring came into view and reality hit him all too hard.

There was more fire ravaging the once-beautiful section of the city, all the more devastating now that it was devouring houses – _homes_. Smouldering craters dotted the earth, marking where bombs had made impact. The shadows of a dozen airships drifted across the city as people below, small as cricket-ants, scrambled for cover. One of the ships let loose another barrage, explosives tumbling down like fiery rain out of hulking black metal clouds.

Swooping forward, Aang swung his legs out in a sweeping arc, catching the rapidly descending bombs in a gust of wind that flung them upward. With an explosion that nearly tossed Aang off his glider, the belly of the ship was torn open and its flaming ruins careened downwards, about to crash and shatter on the thinly populated Upper Ring.

With another, sharper motion of his legs, Aang bent an enormous, slanted slab of rock to shield the nearest house from the impact of the ship's crash landing. The rock splintered, but did its job well enough.

Doubling back toward another enemy airship, he couldn't help feeling a swell of satisfaction and courage. If he could just do the same with all the other airships . . .

Roaring met his ears. He barely managed to roll away from a stream of flames, throwing a panicked look over his shoulder as he did so. Ozai's cackling face spun behind him. He stood on one of the metal walkways extending out from the bottom of the most massive airship, horribly delighted at the sight of Aang.

"Come to fight at last, Avatar?" he called as the boy in question angled his glider so he circled the dirigible. The Fire Lord's eyes never left him, glinting in the light from the Comet. Aang's stomach clenched when their gazes met, noticing the startling similarity between Zuko and his father.

Then he was lobbing another fireball, laughing when Aang dived unnecessarily low to avoid the misaimed strike. His voice was clear and unpleasant above the whirring of propellers as he called, "Frightened, are we? Perhaps you're too young for this war, boy."

"I can handle anything you throw at me!" Aang automatically responded, sounding more confident than he felt.

Another cackling laugh. "_Really_? You seem more keen on catching what my ships throw. Or is your aim simply that poor?"

In the distance, he could faintly hear the sound of a large section of stone being shifted, signalling that his friends had been deposited on the other side of the wall to stop the foot soldiers from breeching the city. Their airships, which had to drop a considerable amount of height for this purpose, were still too low to be seen over the wall.

More fire rushed toward him and again he rolled away. In the same instant, another airship was dropping a load of explosives. Swerving under Ozai's perch toward the tumbling bombs, he fought to increase the speed of his flight. The bombs were dangerously close to the earth; releasing one hand's grip on the glide, he thrust it upward and outward to raise another enormous chunk of earth. A second later, the bombs exploded, the resultant debris causing minor damaging the shielded house.

A concussive blast – something large and hot bolted by just beneath Aang. He looked to the left just in time to see one of Ozai's fleet pulling level with him, the barrel of a cannon smoking threateningly out of its side. Pulling up out of the airship's range and thanking every spirit he could name for the superior manoeuvrability of gliders, he soared over the ship and scanned the cluster of metal below him for Ozai's. Thankfully, its size made it easy to spot.

"You seem a little distracted," the Fire Lord taunted with a malevolent smirk as Aang dove closer. "Perhaps we ought to have this chat later, hm? I'm sure you'll be able to focus much better when there's no city left to save."

The word "distracted" brought to mind Iroh's earlier admonishments: "Y_our priority is killing the Fire Lord . . . . If you waver from that for any reason, we could lose the most important part of the battle."_

His grip on his glider tightened; at the same moment, his gut clenched queasily. He had to do this – and he _could_. His friends were fighting below, beyond the wall, and their airships were growing steadily closer, ready to take out Ozai's fleet. He couldn't stop Ba Sing Se from being damaged, but he could prevent it being outright _destroyed_. He was ready. He had trained for a year, knew how to bend the four elements like second nature, and – best of all – Guru Pathik had taught him how to control his most powerful weapon: the Avatar State.

He was ready.

Pulling up once more so that he was level with the top of the airship, he touched down, perching himself precariously on its top. Ignoring Ozai's distant taunts of, "Running away again, are we, Avatar?", he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, honing in on the energy flowing through his chakras. In his mind's eye, he glimpsed the pathway in the stars, his giant glowing self, the earth rotating slowly below . . .

A sudden sense of calm shot through him, power filled his veins and he _knew_.

XxXx

Diving behind a large chunk of debris left by Toph's makeshift barrier, Katara covered her head with her hands, trying to ignore the sense that she was being stuffed into a sauna as cyan flames shot by inches above her head. Only when the heat subsided did she dare peek out.

A few metres away, Zuko and Azula traded magnificent blasts of fire, blue and red colliding and twisting through the air as though part of some horrid dance. The flames snaked and darted in ways more terrifyingly precise and powerful than she had ever seen, as though they were sentient extensions of the two battling benders. A blaze from Azula's foot narrowly missed the side of Zuko's face.

"Stay back!" he shouted when Katara jumped to her feet, hand at her waterskin.

Ignoring his command, she drew out a long ribbon of water, freezing the end into a sharp tip. Following her swift hand movements, the water-whip lashed at Azula, trying to wrap around her ankle or arm only to be evaporated in seconds. Katara was reforming it for a fourth time when the princess shifted the focus of her offense from Zuko, hurling enormous fireballs at Katara's head instead.

She narrowly side-stepped the first, caught two more in a wall of water, but couldn't see the fourth through the resultant steam. It slammed into her shoulder, throwing her off her feet and making her nerves scream with burning pain. Sprawled on her back, squeezing her eyes shut against the ache, she heard Azula cackle cruelly, the sound mirthless and merciless. More fire roared through the air, heating the impromptu battlefield, though Katara could tell it was some distance away. There were explosive collisions and indistinguishable taunts; she ignored them, focused instead on convincing her muscles to pull her body upright.

Managing a sitting position, Katara hissed at the sting of the hot night air on her fresh wound. Drawing a glove of water from one of the pouches at her hip, she pressed it to her shoulder. The pain eased immediately.

"How's it feel, Azula?" she heard Zuko shouting as she got to her feet. In the distance, his silhouette was blurred by the smoke and dust rising from the ruins of the expansive yard. His fire flared bright through the darkness, more brilliantly red and powerful under the influence of the Comet. "How's it feel to finally realize you never had a single loyal ally in your sorry life?"

"Shut up!" Azula shrieked, shooting fire wildly. Multiple blasts careened into the ground several metres from Zuko, leaving smouldering craters. "I don't need anybody! Trust is for fools!"

Red and blue clashed together. Katara struggled to her feet.

"We both know that's a lie! You've always used people – whether you like it or not, you can't get anywhere without using someone as a stepladder. And now that they've stopped putting up with it, you have to bear your own weight and you can't do _anything_." Zuko evaded and countered each of her strikes with ease, hardly sounding out of breath, "You can't even fight properly!"

Another wordless shriek of outrage met this. Azula, mad-eyed and shaking with anger, swung out blindly with a flaming fist. A massive fireball smashed the ground inches from Zuko's feet, throwing him backwards. He collided painfully with the uneven earth, and before he could recover Azula rounded on Katara, attacking with renewed fervour. Caught slightly off-guard, her thoughts still on Zuko's prone form, she struggled to fend off each blow as Azula fought with a kind of manic ferocity utterly removed from her usual cool, calculated technique.

The air was soon thick with steam, but Azula gave no opening for Katara to use this to her advantage. Crouching to avoid a volley of blasts lobbed at her head, she swept a long stream of water at her opponent's feet, hoping to trip or at least knock her off balance. A dart of fire cleaved it in two, however, the end closest to Azula's feet collapsing in a puddle. A breath later the onslaught resumed and Katara was back to moving – anywhere – as fast as she could. All the while, she strained to hear any sign of movement from Zuko, not daring to take her eyes of Azula long enough to check. The fall hadn't looked that hard, but with all the fire and smoke and dust . . . Her heart clenched at the thought.

Katara shot thin, razor-sharp discs of ice at Azula's midsection, only to be forced to shield her face with her arms as a single fireball threw them all back at her in the form of ice shards and scalding mist. Then, diving into a particularly deep crater for cover from Azula's next violent barrage, she motioned for another ribbon to snake out of her waterskins – only to find them all empty.

Panic hit her with such force her legs would have given out if she weren't already crouching. _No water_. She was a waterbender with no water against a crazed firebender at her absolute strongest.

'_Calm down_,' she instructed herself, sucking in deep lungfuls of the hot, sticky air in an effort to slow her racing heart. There had to be water _somewhere_.

Fire darted past overhead, inches above her. Shifting so she was flat to the indent of rubble, Katara dragged her arm across her sweat-soaked and dust-coated forehead.

And just like that, an idea occurred to her.

Behind her, the roar of fire doubled. Zuko was fighting again – he was alright. Relief spread through her like a warm drink on an icy day, enabling her to concentrate wholly on her knew plan.

Fingers dancing through the air, she collected water vapour into a small globe, pulling sweat from her clothes and skin to join it. The resultant supply of water was surprisingly underwhelming, an orb barely larger than her fist. There had to be more somewhere else. It was just a matter of finding it.

Katara peeked out from the protection offered by the crater and, seeing that Azula was fully occupied, quickly scrambled out, darting across the ruined, topsy-turvy grounds in search of more water.

Blue flashed in her peripheral. She turned just in time to see Azula's fingers meet, sparks flying, a malicious grin aimed at Zuko as he crouched on the ground clutching his side.

Then she spun around, shooting the deadly bolt straight at Katara. There was no time to react, to run, to _blink_.

"_No_!"

And suddenly he was in front of her, a wordless scream torn from his throat as blue pierced his heart; for a moment he seemed to glow, electricity arcing off his skin in all directions.

With a shudder and a gasp, his limbs gave out and he crumpled into a heap on the ground.

"_Zuko!_"

Katara made to run to him – they were only a few metres apart – but was forced to leap backward by a jet of flame. Looking up, she saw Azula staggering closer, lips twisted into a hate-filled smile as her eyes glinted azure in the light from her fire.

* * *

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	47. Chapter 47

The earth rumbled and split under Sokka's feet as Bumi sent a fissure toward a cluster of charging Fire Nation soldiers. The blasts of fire they had been preparing to hurl fizzled out as they fell into the shallow pit.

Four down, who-knew-how-many left to go.

The phalanx of marching and torching warriors had broken apart when Sokka, Ty Lee, and the White Lotus Society had been deposited in their path, turning the scorched fields into a blur of elements and weapons and fighting figures. They were badly outnumbered and overpowered – few, if any, of the soldiers they faced were non-benders, forcing Ty Lee and Sokka to team up in a chi-block-and-stab tactic. Worst of all, they had no way of knowing how Aang was fairing. He could have run away and they would still be fighting, Ozai could have . . .

No. He couldn't think of that.

Fists and fingers flashed by in front of him; Ty Lee cart-wheeled away from her latest victim to take on another approaching trio. The soldier seemed momentarily bewildered, blinking rapidly; then, seeing Sokka in his Water-Tribe-blue clothes, he raised his fists in preparation to fight. Holding his sword at the ready, Sokka waited for the man to make the first move.

He struck out, eyes widening in horror when he produced only a puff of smoke. Black metal glinted in the sanguine light as Sokka lunged. He tried to ignore the blood, the shell-shocked expression of his skewered opponent. Pulling out with a squelching sound, he turned to follow Ty Lee. Behind him, the man collapsed with a thickening _thud_.

A blur of pink darted across the battlefield. He hurried after it, ducking fireballs and swinging his blade at anyone who tried to apprehend him, trying not to see the faces of his assailants, or the unseeing eyes of the bodies already littering the ground. A jet of water shot by; he tried not to imagine his baby sister facing the same horrors in the Fire Nation.

Losing traction in a slick pool of blood, he fell face-first on the ground, almost losing his grip on his sword. Beside him, someone groaned softly. Looking up, he saw tan skin, a sharp-featured face, a thinly bearded chin –

"Piandao!" Sokka shouted, scrambling onto his hands and knees, staring at the bloodied arm and side of his mentor in horror.

"I'm alright, Sokka," he assured him, but his voice was weak and his breathing was shallow and he could barely keep his eyes open. "You need to . . . keep moving . . . keep fighting . . . . The Fire Nation won't . . . stop for your worries."

As if on cue, there was movement in Sokka's peripheral and he barely had time to turn and swing blindly upward, severing the hand of a woman who had been preparing to roast him alive. Sokka could only stare as she collapsed to her knees, wailing in agony and pressing her remaining hand to the stump in an effort to stop the flow of blood. The charred, ash-strewn earth was red.

"Move on," Piandao advised him from where he laid on the ground, still bleeding.

The woman continued to wail. Other soldiers were rushing at him, armed with fire. If he hurried he might live. If he hurried he would leave Piandao exposed and vulnerable.

Raising his sword again, he lunged forward, piercing the woman's heart; her screams dissolved into a gurgle and then silence. Turning, he swung at a young man approaching on his left, slashing across his midsection; he stumbled back with a shout. Fire grazed Sokka's shoulder. He turned and cut through another approaching soldier – he didn't know if it was a man or a woman and he didn't care.

It continued, seemingly without end. The Fire Nation soldiers charged him and he hacked and slashed and plunged, ignoring faces and voices and the sticky layer of crimson staining his sword, accumulating more burns and bodies. They lay in a circle around him, some staring blindly at the sky, some facing the earth, some gazing blankly into each other's eyes.

And still they kept coming.

XxXx

"We're close," Teo said before Jet could even voice his question. Clamping his mouth shut, he stepped away from the elevated wheelchair and resolving not to ask again.

The water sliding by below them was dark crimson and still as glass, their airship a shadow on its surface. Their flight seemed to take a million years longer than their trip to the capitol, even though he knew the distance to Northern Water Tribe was considerably shorter. Every so often he would spot a glimmer of pinkish-white on the horizon and, in his anxiousness to reach their destination, assume it was the ice flows of the north. It always turned out to be a low-hanging cloud or a trick of the light, so he didn't even pay any mind to the speck on the horizon this time around.

"Can I ask you just one question, Queenie?" Toph asked from where she sat huddled in the corner. Her inability to see anything outside the ship and fear of flying was proving to make this one of her absolute least favourite trips. "What exactly am _I_ supposed to do? I can't fight in the snow! I'll be all cold and . . . _blind_." She spat the last word as though it tasted foul. "Actually . . . how are _you_ going to fight?"

"What do you mean?" he snapped, shooting her a look. Even though he didn't exactly have a plan yet, he didn't like the way her words were shredding through any chance of their ragtag team succeeding.

"Uh, well, I can't _see_ without earth and I won't exactly be much help to Wheels here." To emphasize her point, she waved a hand in front of her pale eyes.

"He means, 'Why won't we be able to fight?'" Mai said before Jet had a chance to clarify. It was the first she had spoken since they had left the temple and Jet couldn't keep from eyeing her warily, unsure what to expect from the girl who kept looking at him in a way that could only be described as _knowing_, despite the utter blankness of her expression.

Toph, oblivious to how anyone looked at anyone, sighed in a manner that suggested an eye-roll. "The Fire Nation is using airships – they know that fighting waterbenders on water or ice is stupid even _with_ the Comet to back them up, so they're taking them by air. None of us can bend down there and I doubt Miss Misery's little knives will do much damage to a great big honking _airship_."

Of course – he probably should have seen something like this coming, especially considering the Fire Nation had attacked the North not long ago with catastrophic results. Not that expecting it would have really made much difference. They were still just a blind girl, a guy in a wheelchair, an ex-leader of a rebel army, and an unemotional General's daughter with one airship against who-knew-how-many Fire Nation ships.

Jet was hit with a sudden, uncharacteristic wish to be an airbender – hell, even _firebending_ would put them in a better position.

The pinkish-white speck on the horizon was growing larger. Was it his imagination, or were there black dots hovering above the icy landscape? The image of firebenders standing on the catwalks extending from the belly of the ships leapt to mind unbidden, an army of faceless figures torching the nation below. What he wouldn't give to be able to climb onto the narrow walkways beside them and throw them off, one my one . . .

Something in his mind clicked.

"Guys," he announced, and everybody turned to look at him as though they, too, had sensed his brainwave, "I have a plan."

XxXx

Smoke swirled up from the wreckage below in thick black clouds, climbing almost as high as the wall of Ba Sing Se itself. There was no time to relish the satisfaction of watching an enemy ship fall, however; a canon ball shattered the windshield, forcing Chojo to momentarily abandon her position, diving below the steering wheel and covering her head with her arms. There was a resounding, metallic _thud_ as the projectile slammed into the wall and fell to the glass strewn floor.

Cautiously, she pulled herself back to her feet. A fierce wind slapped her face as she stared out of the jagged hole smashed through the window, the cuts on her arms and face stinging as though bathed in salt. She didn't dwell on this, though. Adrenaline had seized her, wiping away all thoughts of fear and "what if?" and "Maybe no one will notice if I just fly back home". Grabbing the cone-shaped device she knew fed through pipes all over the ship, she said, "Fire the cannons."

Spinning the wheel so that the ship rotated, agonizingly slow, she stopped when she knew the cannons mounted along the side were facing the enemy, praying her crew would fire faster than theirs.

A concussive blast, the sound of buckling metal, smoke blowing in through the window; she had made a direct hit.

Turning the ship back to its previous position and pulling a lever to gain altitude, she watched the enemy airship slowly lose height, licks of fire visible through the billowing cloud of black issuing from the gaping hole in its side. Had she been lucky enough to hit the engine?

Another airship drifted into view, a man with short white hair dressed in indigo robes standing on one of the walkways extending from its bottom. A bright blue arrow had been painted onto the side of the dirigible, charred in places from firebending assaults. With a few sharp hand movements, Jeong Jeong sent a massive streak of fire coiling around a second airship, squeezing tight so the metal melted and warped. It, too, began to fall toward the blazing, blackened earth that had been the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se.

There was more movement in the distance, on the biggest ship of the fleet – Ozai's, clearly. Something was glowing . . . no, some_one!_

Chojo could feel the sudden sucking force of wind despite the vast space between her and Aang as he created a swirling ball of air around himself, a defence from Ozai's fireblasts that enabled him to hover in mid-air. Enormous chunks of rock dislodged themselves below and glided up to join him, floating on either side of him like earthly sentinels. There was an uncharacteristic air of power and mercilessness about the image, and Chojo couldn't help grinning eagerly.

It seemed this battle had taken a turn for the better.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry if this chapter is a little dark. I've decided to up the rating, since the rest of the battle scenes are probably going to be of a similar nature. _

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.  
**


	48. Chapter 48

Fire raged around them, merciless and all consuming. Panting, Katara remained posed in a fighting stance despite the utter pointlessness of her situation – she was out of water, out of weapons, had no ally, no hope. The tiny bit of water vapour she had managed to collect from the air had been evaporated by a blast of fire that she herself barely managed to evade. Azula had her beat. Zuko would die, and so would she, and evil would still reign in the Fire Nation.

She shifted slightly, felt something brush her chest . . .

The vial of oasis water! It wasn't much, but maybe she could use it. Maybe, if she was quick and clever enough, she could find some way to thwart Azula with it. She had to at least _try. _Reaching for its chain, she began to draw it out from where it hid beneath her shirt –

Then Zuko groaned, barely audible, and she knew it had a much more important purpose.

"What's the matter, peasant?" Azula taunted, moving forward on unsteady legs, her face twisted into the vilest of grins. Her lips may as well have been wiggling serpents. "You look positively _parched_."

At those words, something aligned itself in Katara's brain. Water – there was water in living things. There was water in _her,_ water in _Azula_.

Her enemy could be her weapon.

She could still win this fight.

Reaching out with her bending, she groped blindly for some trace of moisture in the princess, only to be greeted by a torrent. Water pulsed inside the girl like a river, travelling through intricate pathways that connected to all parts of her body.

'_Blood_,' Katara realized with a sickening twist of her gut. But it was hard to grasp, thick and heavy and moving of its own accord, leaving her feeling like a rookie bender all over again, connected to the push and pull around her but unable to do anything to influence it.

No – she _could_ do this. She wasn't a master waterbender and personal trainer to the Avatar for nothing.

Breathing deep, she focused all her energy on the blood pounding through Azula's veins, blocking out everything else – the taunts, Zuko's groans, the suffocating heat, the fear more consuming and inescapable than the flames that surrounded her. The rhythm was steady, easy to flow into. She grasped it, tried to twist it.

Shouting, Azula stumbled backward, hands flying to her face. The sound snapped Katara out of her trance and she saw, with an odd mix of horror and satisfaction, that she had managed only to bust a few blood vessels, giving Azula a black eye.

But it had spooked her. More than that – it had _terrified_ her.

"What . . ." the princess choked, taking a step back with eyes wide and arms raised defensively. "What did you do you, you, you . . . _water witch_?"

"Nothing you don't deserve," Katara ground out between her teeth, struggling to grasp the now raging current of Azula's pulse. It occurred to her, in some distant part of her mind, that she didn't really know how she could use this ability to fully and surely stop the princess. It was just blood; she couldn't really _attack_ her with it.

Then, feeling Azula's pulse in her fingertips, hearing her racing heart in her head, Katara had an idea that made her own blood run cold. Could she really do something so horrible?

"You're . . ." Azula started, staring at her hands as though they had suddenly transformed into something foreign. "How are you . . ." Her eyes darted up to meet Katara's and familiar fury broke over her features, replacing the momentary shock. Hands clenching, her fist reared back and punched a ball of flame at Katara, forcing the waterbender to dive to the side and breaking her concentration. "Stop it! Stop it right now!"

If Azula had been unhinged before, it was nothing compared to now. The flames blazing all over the yard responded to her every movement, flickering and dancing and struggling between cyan and scarlet. The sporadic light played hauntingly off her twisted features, altering between sharp relief and complete shadow. It was hard to tell if this was a good sign for Katara, or a very, very bad one.

XxXx

The earth rose at his command. The air swirled at his command. And, soon enough, Ozai would fall at his command.

Fire charged him like a rhino-bull, hot and destructive and angry, but the experience of a thousand firebenders told Aang that his opponent's form was sloppy, his technique dreadful. A few confident, controlled swipes of his hand turned it to smoke, his protective bubble of wind causing it to blow out around him.

"Ozai," he said, and his voice wasn't his but an army's, the voices of every Avatar before him pouring out. "You and your forefathers have caused enough destruction with this century-long war. Call off your forces and relinquish the territory you stole, and we may be persuaded to spare you."

The Fire Lord let out a cackle of a laugh, continuing to fruitlessly lob fireballs at Aang, undeterred by his impressive display of power and calm. "You're the one who should be hoping to be spared, child!"

Somewhere in the distance, Aang was dimly aware of another firefight taking place between two airships. The sky was choked with smoke and dirt, soot beginning to darken Ozai's face despite never sustaining a blow.

'_He's not going to surrender_,' several voices told him at once. '_We must fight_.'

He nodded almost imperceptibly to himself.

Then, with a sharp, downward thrust of his palm, vertical cracks formed in the chunks of rock floating on either side of him, like so many airborne shafts of stalactite. Punching forward, fingers together and pointed, he hurled them at Ozai in rapid succession.

The Fire Lord seemed to anticipate this assault with a bizarre sense of eagerness. Twisting sideways, he allowed some to skim by harmlessly, shattering others with a swing of his fist or a concussive blast of fire. However, it was difficult to manoeuvre himself safely on such a narrow walkway and there were some spikes he couldn't evade or destroy, too blunt to pierce skin but hitting with enough force to leave angry, mottled bruises.

This fact, however, did nothing to discourage Ozai. Swatting the last of Aang's attack away as though it were merely a pesky insect, he called over the howling wind, "Even in the Avatar State, at your most powerful, you're no threat to me! Perhaps it is _you_ who should call off your fighters while you still have the chance?"

'_Ignore him_,' Roku and several other Avatars advised Aang. '_He is only trying to get under your skin, anger you into sloppiness_.'

So earthbending was no help to him. No problem. He could always fight fire with fire.

Breathing deep, he concentrated on the warm pool of energy in his gut, dipping into it, spreading it outward to his hands and feet. Then, alive with the hum of fire and the intensity of the Comet overhead, he lashed out, flames leaping from his fingers.

But every dart of fire Aang shot Ozai's way was effortlessly consumed by a single, massive blast from the Fire Lord. Aang had to dive to the side to avoid it, his protective bubble of air superheating during the inferno's brief moment of closeness.

Then Ozai was flying – _flying_ – toward him, fire streaming from his feet, propelling him upward, a menacing, blazing whip beginning to take shape in his hands. The voices of his past lives all shouted in unison: '_Run_.'

The air bubble around him vanished and he let himself drop, stomach lurching at the sudden pull of gravity. Shifting so he was falling face-first instead of feet-first (not a difficult task; his body seemed reluctant to remain upright now that he was plummeting toward the earth), he spun in mid-air, creating a horizontal whirlwind at his feet that propelled him beneath Ozai's ship. Forcing himself upright once more, he commanded the winds to elevate him toward the now-distant belly of the airship and the catwalk Ozai had vacated. As he reached solid ground and was engulfed in the racket of whirring propellers, Aang couldn't help wondering if his staff was still laying on top of the vessel, waiting to be retrieved. He could certainly use the effortless manoeuvrability of a glider . . .

Fire shot past, too close, and Aang barely had time to register what was happening before the flaming whip was lashing out at him again. Leaping back out of its range, he focused on the burning energy and twisted it out of Ozai's control; it fizzled out, dwindling to a wisp of smoke.

But the Fire Lord was still undaunted – angry, yes, but not daunted. Hissing smoke, he flew under Aang, shooting a blast of fire directly below where he stood. Searing pain assaulted his feet and he jumped blindly away, paying no attention to where he aimed his landing.

And then he was falling again, the tug of gravity much more shocking because he hadn't planned it this time. Ozai was rocketing after him, still propelled by flaming feet, a wicked grin on his face as his hands moved in slow, deliberate circles.

XxXx

Sokka couldn't see.

Swinging wildly, he felt his sword connect with something, heard the shout of a man wounded, smelt the spray of blood, but he couldn't see. Red rivers were pouring down his face, starting at his forehead, trickling down over his eyebrows and into his eyes, creating streaks down his cheeks. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his vision just long enough to glimpse someone rearing back a fist, red light dancing across their knuckles. He lunged, felt contact, heard the scream, smelt the spray . . .

He really hated the colour red.

"Sokka!" someone called. The voice was female and worried and it didn't sound right, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe he had blood in his ears, too. It seemed like there was far more blood _outside_ his body than inside.

Someone darted past him, and there was the rapid-fire sound of punches making contact over and over. Every so many hits were followed by the squelchy thud of a person falling to the bloodied mud, creating a sort of morbid rhythm.

Then it stopped and the sounds of battle become oddly distant.

"Sokka?" that someone asked again. A step forward, a hand swiping across his forehead, then his eyes, and he saw Ty Lee gazing up at him, her own eyes wide and worried. "Are you alright?"

Her voice didn't sound right; she wasn't happy. He shrugged, barely registering the pain that knifed through his shoulder.

The battle continued to rage around them but it was calm in their little circle of bodies. Taking a moment to survey the scene, Sokka noted that Ty Lee had succeeded in not only blocking the enemies' chi, but in paralyzing them so that about half a dozen soldiers where left lying on the ground, eyes darting frantically.

His gaze drifted out over the battleground. The numbers had thinned, unfortunately on both sides. While most of the bodies littering the ground bore the red of the Fire Nation, there was still Piandao lying on the ground behind him (he didn't dare check the older man's breathing for fear of what he might discover), and further out he could see Pakku with a badly burned arm, fighting one-handed with a sorely limited supply of water. Then there was him, covered in more burns and blood and pain than skin, it seemed, his muscles suddenly registering exhaustion and begging for collapse.

And still the firebenders kept coming.

An explosion sounded distantly. He looked toward it, but Ba Sing Se's towering Inner Wall blocked the other battle from view.

"Come on," Ty Lee said, voice gentle and low and still so foreign sounding. "Let's find you a place to rest."

She was gripping his arm gingerly, trying to tug him along, but he remained rooted to the spot, both hands clinging to the hilt of his sword as he shook his head. "We have to keep fighting."

"Sokka, you're hurt –"

"We have to keep fighting," he repeated numbly, gaze locked on the distant glow of fire. Why did he feel so cold if flames were rising up from the ground everywhere, like a forest of all-consuming trees?

"We've done everything we can, Sokka. Now you need to rest."

Her words were like knives. "We lost."

"No! That's not what I –"

"We lost."

Something was moving on the horizon. Two black lines, swimming across the sky like great, airborne eel-hounds. It was headed straight toward them, soaring above the ruined Outer Wall. Fire Nation reinforcements.

"We lost." His voice sounded dead even to his own ears.

* * *

Author's Notes: _I'm actually on time! =D Surprisingly, these scenes are a lot easier to write than any of the other ones. I guess 'cause they're more action based?_

_Also, fun fact: in the rough draft of the Aang vs. Ozai scene, I used the word "undeterred" approximately five times. xD_

**Disclaimer:**** "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	49. Chapter 49

"Remember to move in as close as possible," Jet reminded Teo as the teen guided their airship toward the fleet of Fire Nation dirigibles hovering above the outskirts of the Northern Water Tribe. Below, waterbenders were slicing through the icy waters in canoes, moving in sequence to send large, frozen spikes flying up toward the enemy airships. Firebenders harnessed to the catwalks below easily devoured the attacks with even larger streams of flame, so that it was an unprogressive battle between opposite elements. No one seemed to notice the arrival of a new airship.

As they inched closer to one member of the fleet, Jet turned to Mai and Toph, saying, "C'mon. We better get below if we want to be ready.

A minute later found him opening a hatch and being greeted by the slap of bitterly cold wind. Below, long walkways of metal were lined up parallel to each other with one long strip connecting them. Each pathway was just big enough for a person to stand on, leaving very little room for manoeuvring. Beyond that, brilliantly blue water was dotted with blocks of ice.

"Alright," he said, stepping back and making a sweeping gesture toward the ladder. "You first, Toph."

"Oh, sure, send the _blind_ girl down."

"Blind _metal_bender," he corrected. "Now _go_."

With a huff, she complied, hurrying down the ladder. She continued to cling to it once she had reached the walkway, undoubtedly hating the sense that the ship she stood on was an island in a void.

Then, right on cue, Teo piloted their airship even closer to the enemy's, so that the bulbous tops brushed against each other with the ugly screech of grinding metal. Suddenly sighted, Toph jerked one knee sharply upward, bending the end of a catwalk on which a firebender stood with his back to her and bucking him off. He was left to dangle by the ropes of his harness, flailing and shouting in confusion.

"_Go_!" Jet shouted, ushering Mai down the ladder as Toph crawled, hands keeping a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the pathway, toward the other ship. He followed soon after, helping Toph cross the gap between the two airships' catwalks before leaping across himself, feeling unsteady from wind and adrenaline. He extended a hand to Mai, but she ignored it and crossed the gap on her own.

"Go! Up, up, up!"

They scrambled up the ladder, into the belly of the ship, where they crouched, trying to calm their breathing so they could listen for any approaching footsteps. The ship groaned and creaked like a house settling, filling Jet with the constant sense of being watched. Anyone could sneak up undetected with that kind of noise as their cover . . .

"I don't see anyone," Toph whispered. Some of the tension left his shoulders; if anyone tried to get near them, she would be the first to know.

"Alright," he said, still half-crouching as he began moving through the airborne vessel, hoping his footsteps weren't as thunderous as his ears said they were. "Let's get to the cockpit and take care of business."

They moved stealthily toward their destination, Toph hissing warnings whenever someone approached so that Mai could ready her knives, always hitting with silencing accuracy. The enemy would pitch forward, Jet darting closer to catch it and avoid the inevitably loud _thud_ of a body collapsing to the floor. Then he would stuff it into the nearest empty room or alcove and they would continue on their way.

Soon enough, the steel door of the cockpit loomed in front of them. Toph pressed a palm lightly to the door, calculating its thickness and studying the scene on the other side as only she could. After a moment, she turned her milky gaze in Jet's general direction and whispered, "There's three guys in there, but I think I can take 'em. Be ready to run in and do your thing when I'm finished."

He nodded, gesturing for Mai to join him at the side of the door and out of the way of Toph's no-doubt-destructive plan. The younger girl cracked her knuckles, grinning in anticipation.

A well-aimed, bending-aided punch sent the door flying off its hinges. It collided with the pilot, who collapsed against the steering wheel and caused the ship to swerve abruptly. Jet and Mai stumbled, grabbing each other's shoulders for support, but Toph barely wobble in her firm earthbending stance. Jerking both her outstretched fists to the left, she peeled back a section of the floor and slammed one guard into the wall with it.

By this time, the third attackee knew what to expect, avoiding a dislodged pipe aimed at his head and punching a blast of fire at her. Part of the floor rose to meet the blaze, then split off, crumpled into a ball like a discarded scrap of paper, and hurled itself into the man's stomach. He slammed into the wall, sliding down, settling into a heap on the floor.

Surveying the carnage with a self-satisfied smirk, Toph called, "Coast is clear, Queenie! Do your stuff."

Steadying himself (the airship was still jerking about rather roughly, though the pilot had slipped from the wheel and onto the floor), Jet entered the cockpit and headed straight for the controls, mind fighting to remember the crash-course Teo had given him on piloting. This lever to gain altitude, that switch to reduce buoyancy, this device to talk with the rest of the ship . . .

"Can you reseal the door and barricade us in here?" he asked Toph.

"Um, I guess. Why? I thought you were gonna smash us into another airship so we could hitch a ride again."

"Not anymore. I have a better idea."

In his peripheral, he saw Mai straighten away from the doorframe she had been leaning on, expression blank yet somehow quizzical. He smirked.

"We're taking over this ship."

XxXx

"Sokka? Sokka!" Rough shaking that made his shoulders hurt. "Come on! You need to sit down somewhere safe. I'll fix all your burns, I-I . . . I can take Piandao, too, if you want."

Ty Lee's words weren't connecting with him, however. He was too busy staring up at the black lines still swimming across the blood-red sky, growing larger every second. Somewhere in his mind, deep down where despair had yet to ravage it, he knew that they couldn't possibly be airships, which were rigid and round and not long or curving.

But what else could it be? What else would come to a battleground where all hope was so clearly lost?

"Sokka, come _on_! Before they start attacking again!"

Then the figures were dipping low, straight toward a cluster of armour-clad fighters, and Sokka swore he heard a _roar_ and there was the most magnificent jet of flames –

"Dragons," he breathed. His head felt lighter, like someone had nudged a curtain open to let the sun shine through a little. His memory shot back to a few days before this nightmare began. "She said . . . And she brought _dragons_."

"Who said?" Ty Lee asked, managing to tear her awed gaze from the swooping, decimating creatures to look at Sokka again.

"Ursa."

Eyes widening in a mixture of realization and disbelief, she gasped, "_Ursa_? But . . . How . . ." She glanced back the coiling, fire-breathing beasts still soaring over the battlefield, brow furrowed cutely. "How did she turn Appa into a dragon?"

For what felt like the first time in months, Sokka wanted to smack his forehead. It was an oddly relieving sensation.

"They're not _Appa_," he explained, a faint grin managing to sneak its way across his lips. "Remember, when you guys returned from that prison and Zuko couldn't bend, and Iroh taught him that special technique?"

"You mean that dance?"

"Yeah – the Dancing Dragon. Iroh said he knew _real_ firebender masters – I bet these are them!"

If anything, this only served to make Ty Lee more confused. "But dragons are _extinct_. And where's Appa?"

There was no chance to answer her – one of the creatures in question was gliding toward them, the flapping of its enormous wings creating gusts of wind that tossed up dirt and whipped through their hair (which, Sokka now realized, had come loose of its bindings) as it dipped down toward the earth. Landing several metres away, the ruby-scaled dragon lowered itself into a crouch, allowing its numerous passengers to climb off and run to join the fray. In the clamber, Sokka caught a glimpse of face paint and green dresses and fans; of a tall boy in ragged clothes and a conical hat, wielding a bow and accompanying a shorter person with wild hair and knives; fierce faces Sokka had never seen before.

And at the head of the dragon, her long hair pulled into an elegant but practical bun, sat Ursa. Her expression was torn between triumph and total anxiety.

"Do you know how my son is doing?" she called down to Sokka, who was still slightly buzzed by this unexpected turn of events.

Her words, however, shook him out of his stupor, reminding him of the grim reality. The thought of Zuko and his sister and the uncertainty surrounding their situation made his gut clench. "No. We don't know how any of the others are doing."

Ursa nodded, wringing her hands as she stared out at the battlefield contemplatively.

"Where's Appa?" Ty Lee asked after a moment, cocking her head like a curious child.

Seeming to come out of a trance, the former Fire Lady blinked down at them from her perch. "Oh. I left him at the temple. Thought it would be safer."

"How did you get these dragons?" Ty Lee asked, moving closer to study the rock-hard scales covering the mighty beast. Its wings twitched and it blew smoke out its nostrils, but otherwise seemed unbothered when she trailed a finger along its front leg.

"The Sun Warriors – old friends of Iroh's," she explained with sudden impatience, gesturing to the battlefield where, Sokka now realized, there were numerous fights pitting fire against fire. Before they could question her any further, she was bracing herself against the dragon's neck and saying, "I have to go. Good luck! _Josho_!"

Then the beast unfurled its wings, sending Ty Lee stumbling out of the way, and, with a push from its powerful legs, it was taking off into the sky. As it twisted in the air and flew back in the direction from which it had come, there was movement by the opening that had been blasted in the Outer Wall. The flash of a whip and dart of a tongue; enemies crumpled to the ground, immobile.

"Who's that?" Ty Lee asked, squinting at the distant figure and her mount.

"Jun." Never in his life had Sokka thought seeing the bounty hunter would make him so happy. Turning to the acrobat at his side, he grinned and said, "I think we might have a shot at winning after all."

XxXx

Fire careened toward her and it was all Katara could do to keep out of the way, suddenly furious at herself for maintaining such long, flammable hair. Azula struck with merciless fervour, aiming to kill, her attacks ranging from red sparks and puffs of smoke to blazing white infernos.

Ducking behind one of the remaining walls of earth Toph had raised so long ago, Katara pressed her back against the rough, scorched rock and fought to catch her breath. Several metres away, she could hear Azula panting as well. Maybe now was her chance. All she had to do was focus, reach out with her bending and squeeze . . .

"_No_!" the princess roared, and the wall against which Katara leaned exploded, hot and violent and throwing her across the yard. Struggling to her hands and knees, the world spun as she coughed up blood and felt hot air brush against her sweat slicked back, revealing that a sizeable hole had been burned through her shirt.

There was no time to dwell on this. She had barely reoriented herself when more flames were crashing into the ground beside her, forcing her to scramble to her feet and run for cover once more.

Diving into a particularly large crater, she pressed herself flat to the uneven earth and tried to ignore the chaffing of her back, staring up at the red and smoke-choked sky. How much longer would it take for the Comet to finish passing? Could she keep this run-run-run-hide tactic up until its power vanished and Azula was a fairer match? Could _Zuko_ hold on that long?

'_No_,' she decided, trying to shake the exhaustion that was settling in her limbs, '_this needs to end sooner rather than later_.'

Rolling onto her stomach, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, chancing a peek over the edge of her crater. Azula was a considerable distance away, grinning maliciously as she nudged her burned and battered brother with the toe of her boot. Her voice, much shriller than usual, rang across the yard and, though she couldn't quite make out the words, Katara knew she was taunting the suffering boy.

Fury swelled inside her unlike anything she had felt before, so sudden and intense that black spots danced across her vision for a moment. How could _anyone_ do something so cruel? It was one thing to shoot him down in a fight, to manipulate him across his lifetime. But to mock and harass him while he was down – not just down, but clinging to life by strings . . . It made something inside her snap.

Azula didn't deserve to have a heartbeat.

Glaring at the princess from her protective crater, Katara reached out with her mind, hesitation-free. Azula let out a howl of fury, rounding on her, fiery fist raised.

But Katara could feel the movement, could feel the heat of firebending as though it coursed through her own veins, and she commanded it to stop, lowering Azula's arms with a quick downward motion of her own hand. Staring at her with wild wide eyes, Azula sputtered and struggled and nearly hyperventilated at the utter loss of control. Her heart was like the beating of a humming-beetle's tiny wings.

Taking a breath, Katara grasped the organ with her bending. Then she squeezed.

The reaction was immediate – one second Azula was glaring daggers, seething with rage and fear; the next she was collapsing with a strangled scream. Katara held all her blood in place, felt her heart stop struggling against the grip of waterbending. And then Azula was still, no life in her eyes and no breath in her lungs.

Fire continued to crackle all around her, bathing the yard in a warm glow as the princess' body began to grow cold.

A soft groan pulled Katara's attention elsewhere, to Zuko lying on the ground a short distance away, grimacing in pain. Rushing to his side, she pulled the vial of Oasis water free from the folds of her shirt, wondering if she could really kill and heal in the same moment.

"K'tara," he croaked, staring up at her through half-lidded eyes as she unscrewed the decorative cap on the vial. Dirt and soot marred his clothes and skin, along with angry burns and a ragged cut on his cheek. But his lips were twitching up into a smile, and he was alive and Zuko and _perfect_.

"It's alright," she whispered, pressing the glowing water to the star-shaped wound on his chest, feeling the feeble rhythm of his heart. Gently, she forced her bending to penetrate his bloodstream, willing his pulse to grow stronger. "I'm here."

But after a moment it became clear that something wasn't right – the water was glowing like normal, yes, and she could feel its soothing energy radiating through her fingertips, yet it refused to do its job. Removing her hands and the liquid coating them from his chest, she stared down at the stubborn mark. "Zuko, I . . . . It's not working."

"You sure?" he asked, eyes sliding shut. "It _feels_ better . . ."

"The burn, it's not . . . it won't . . ." She bit her lip. "I think it's going to leave a scar."

"Wouldn't be the first," he said, the weakest of laughs escaping him.

And suddenly Katara couldn't resist. All her inhibitions, all thoughts of the waging war, all memory of Ursa's warning flew from her mind. He was close and alive and happy even though he had just skimmed past death and was going to be disfigured _again_ and she couldn't fix anything –

He drew a sharp breath as she smashed her lips against his, but responded eagerly a second later, hands rising to cup her face. Her teeth clicked against his in the enthusiastic, half-desperate kiss, earning a grimace and a chuckle from the teen beneath her. Fireworks seemed to erupt beneath her eyelids and the ache of innumerable injuries faded to the back of her mind.

Well, now she finally understood his bold behaviour and temporary loss of sanity by that fountain in Ba Sing Se . . .

Reluctantly, she pulled away, pleasantly breathless and blushing furiously. Zuko stared up at her, dazed, a rare, dopey smile on his face. "Azula must've hit your head pretty hard . . ."

Grinning, she pressed a chaste kiss to his scarred cheek and whispered, "I love you."

Even his damaged eye managed to widen.

Before either could say anything more, however, there was a roar from overhead and a massive shadow fell upon them. They bolted upright (well, Katara did; Zuko propped himself up on his elbows, groaning and wincing) and turned to the sky. A dragon was swooping toward them.

"Zuko!" They heard Ursa cry, voice shrill with worry. As soon as the beast's claws touched the earth she was scrambling down from its back, rushing to her son's side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he grunted, grabbing Katara's shoulder for support as he forced himself properly upright. The raw flesh of his entry wound gleamed in the red-tinted light.

"What happened?" Ursa was kneeling beside him in seconds, staring at the mark in open-mouthed horror.

"Azula."

She tensed, gaze immediately lifting to the surrounding grounds in search of the princess. It only took a moment for her eyes to land on her daughter's still form.

"It's alright," Katara said quietly. She didn't quite believe her own words; how could it possibly be alright to have killed this woman's child? "I . . . . She's not a threat anymore."

All the blood seemed to drain from Ursa's face as she rose to her feet, her son's injury forgotten. Her stare was locked on the limp body, no doubt noticing that her chest no longer rose and fell in the steady, dependable rhythm of breathing. Dropping her gaze, Katara stared at her hands folded on her lap, brown skin blackened with soot.

"Is she . . . ?"

Katara nodded almost imperceptibly, as if a less noticeable movement could make reality lighter. Beside her, Zuko shifted, draping a warm arm across her shoulders.

"It had to be done," he croaked to his mother's back. It was hard to tell if his voice cracked and rasped from physical or emotional pain; he kept his eyes carefully averted from Katara. "It's the only way to ensure a peaceful ruler takes the throne."

Hesitant, Ursa approached her daughter's corpse (because that's what it was now, a corpse instead of a body, with its blood cooling and lungs empty and brain inactive). "She doesn't look . . ."

Pulling each other to their feet, Zuko with his arm still around Katara's shoulders and her with her arm wrapped around his waist, they leaned on one another for support. "I didn't . . . . I attacked her on the inside, not the outside."

Half-turning to face them, Ursa looked caught between awe and revulsion. "You can do that?"

Her insides clenched. Zuko squeezed her reassuringly. "I guess so."

They fell silent, then, the three of them just staring at Azula's unmoving form. Fire continued to crackle around them, but its presence no longer set Katara on edge – the crackling kept things from being too quiet, reminded her why her actions were justified no matter how badly she wanted to scrub her skin raw to rid herself of the dirty feeling of murder.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she whispered, "I don't think it hurt much. Only for a second."

Ursa nodded, staring tearfully at her daughter's face. She drew a shaky breath and said, "She looks peaceful. It's been a long time since she looked so peaceful – not since she was an infant. Right, Zuko?"

He grunted in response, seemingly unwilling to risk proper speech. His body shuddered slightly against Katara as he inhaled, seeking composure. Looking to the sky, he cleared his throat and said, "We should go . . . Jet and the others . . ."

"Right," Katara nodded, the earth beneath her feet feeling solid again. She had a purpose, a direction – her life was not frozen in this place, watching this body decompose. Meeting Ursa's gaze, she tried to convey all her regret and sorrow in her words and eyes as she said, "The Northern Water Tribe is under attack."

"Go on." No grudge, no reluctance in her voice as she waved them away. "Take my dragon."

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for the prolonged delay in updating! The length and content of this chapter made it rather difficult to finish, but now it's finally done! There's still a few more chapters left until the _story_ is done, but hopefully I'll be able to get to the end by the New Year. xD _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


	50. Chapter 50

"Attention crew, this is your _new_ captain speaking. I've taken control of your ship and have weapons you can't even fathom at my disposal, as well as three hostages. So just do as I say and we'll all have a smooth flight."

Toph cast her blind but sceptical gaze on Jet. "Unfathomable weapons?"

Covering the cone-shaped device into which he had spoken, Jet smirked proudly. "I doubt these guys have ever imagined fighting a metalbender, a knife throwing Fire Nation noble, or the former leader of a rebel army."

"Point taken."

At the other end of the cockpit, Mai tapped the reattached door, not turning to face them as she asked, "You think this will hold?"

It was hard to tell if she was being rhetorical or genuinely curious, but he grinned anyway and said, "Of course it will! Besides, Toph'll see them coming long before they get anywhere near here."

"Got that right!" she boasted while tightening the metal band binding the unconscious captain and other two crew members together. "I'll squeeze 'em in their armour 'til their eyes pop."

Jet thought he heard a sigh escape Mai.

Turning back to the receiver, he cleared his throat and said, "Now, load the cannons and be ready to fire at my word! Failure to cooperate will be punished severely."

Grabbing the steering wheel, he spun it to the left. The ship jerked and groaned horrible at the abrupt command, causing everyone to stumble as it rotated in the indicated direction.

"They're moving," Toph declared from her new position on the floor.

"Closer?"

"No." She pressed her palm a little more firmly to the floor. "Just in their little bomb bay. I think they took your horrible steering as a threat."

By now the ship had made a full turn, realigning it with the other airships after the pilot's spill had knocked them perpendicular. Jet could see Teo's ship drifting a little bit ahead, waiting for the signal to start attacking. None of the other firebenders had noticed the unwanted company, too busy with their enemies below to look up and see an airship baring the Avatar's signature arrow.

"They've stopped," Toph said, now on her feet and braced against the wall. Mai had taken similar precautions.

He nodded, brought the receiver back up to his mouth, and commanded, "Fire."

A concussive blast rocked the ship; through the windshield he could see a scene of panic. The waterbenders windmilled their arms in an effort to propel their canoes away before the smouldering enemy dirigible (and Jet knew it was smouldering because black smoke had started drifting by) crashed into the ocean. In front of them, Teo's ship began to rise, climbing just above the Fire Nation airships. Jet knew this was his cue to get the hell away – the only weapon Teo could use without a crew was bombs.

"They're moving," Toph said, an edge of urgency in her voice.

"Closer?"

"Yes."

He swore, trying to focus on steering (which lever did he press to move forward?) and planning (did crew have armour? Weapons?). "Guard the door!"

"_Really_?" Toph snapped, voice laden with sarcasm. "And here I was planning to invite them in for tea!"

"Just shut up and do it!"

"Thought you had this planned out," Mai drolled, positioning herself between him and the door with one arm pulled back in preparation to unleash a hail of knives.

Before he could snap at her, Toph was making sharp, deft movements with her hands, filling the corridor beyond with the sounds of twisting metal and wounded men. Something slammed the door and she went from a flurry of motion to total stillness, teeth gritted and hands outstretched in an apparent effort to hold something back.

"There's four left. More coming," she managed to grunt.

Jet had just enough sense to grab his swords from where they lay at his feet before the door burst open.

The first man through choked on his war cry as a knife lodged itself in his throat, spurting a thin stream of blood. He collapsed to the floor, but the other three had more luck (not to mention armour), zigzagging so Mai's deadly projectiles skimmed past their cheeks or deflected off of steel.

A ball of fire flew from one man's fist, only to be met with a wall of metal peeled from the floor, and soon he and Toph were locked in intense combat. The cockpit soon grew stiflingly hot, but there was no time to worry about this as the remaining two attackers targeted Jet and Mai.

Ducking to the side in avoidance of several successive darts of flame, Jet swung at his attacker's leg, aiming to catch it in the hooked end of the sword and throw him off his feet. But the other man was no idiot, lifting his leg to simultaneously save himself and kick a pinwheel of fire at Jet, who barely managed to sidestep the strike in such a confined space.

They continued to fight, back and forth, but Jet was at a clear disadvantage, no fire at his fingertips or unprotected skin to slice open on his enemy. Toph had moved out into the hallway, fending off any other crew members who dared to try and stop the trio's takeover. Part of Jet wanted to shout, "Get back here! I can't fight this guy on my own!" But a mix of pride and logic told him that, no, _he_ had to fight this one soldier, that it made more sense to have her defending the cockpit from any other invaders.

Catching the man's arm with the curved end of his blade, Jet lashed out with his remaining sword, cutting clean through his enemy's cheek. Blood oozed, redder than his armour, but he didn't relent, twisting free of the hook-sword's hold and punching another blast of fire. It caught Jet in the shoulder, sending him stumbling back against the control panel, unable to restrain a cry of agony. Skin shrieking, clothing smouldering, he struck out with the dagger-hilt of his sword. It pierced the other man's throat with ease.

A shout caught his attention before the man had hit the floor. Jet looked up just in time to see Mai, standing at the other end of the cockpit, tearing off one of her voluminous sleeves, now ragged and burning. In doing so, however, she revealed a rather unsettling fact; the spring-loaded holsters encircling her wrist were empty, and none of the knives they normally held appeared to have pierced her opponent's skin. Panting, she stared at the firebender with the posture of someone unarmed but defiant. Her attacker reared back –

Reacting without thought, Jet dove between her and the man, an earful of fire rewarding his efforts. Deafened by the roar of fire and a male scream that couldn't possibly be his own, blinded by nerve-splitting pain, he struck out. By sheer luck, he managed to slice across the man's eye, sending him stumbling backward in unsighted agony. Lunging forward, he slashed in the general direction of the fallen soldier, heard the gurgle of someone chocking on their own blood.

"That was stupid," Mai said from somewhere behind him. Her normally-perfect deadpan was ruined by a slight tremor in her voice.

Turning to her, he blinked past the white spots dancing in his vision and grinned, noting how oddly deadened his hearing had become as he said, "It would be really inconvenient if you died right now."

She stared at his mangled ear for a moment before meeting his eyes. He thought he detected the smallest hint of an appreciative smile.

XxXx

Lightning crackled at Ozai's fingertips as he rocketed after Aang, grinning with malicious intent. Even if Aang managed to catch himself on a pillow of wind, there would be no escape from the bolt of electricity. His past lives offered up no advice.

So this was how it ended. Closing his eyes, he tried to savour the moment, to find something pleasant in it. But the air was hot and clouds appeared to be stained with blood and the weight of failure seemed to intensify gravity's pull . . .

Fire collided with Ozai, sending him spiralling off course, snuffing out the sparks that had arced between his fingers. Seizing his chance, Aang twisted in mid-air so he faced the earth, thrusting both palms downward to create a velocity-slowing gust of wind. Righting himself as he drifted safely to solid ground, he looked up in search of his saviour.

Flames clashed in the sky, creating an intricate, deadly dance. Ozai swerved and darted and charged toward a white haired man harnessed to the pathways below a friendly airship. His indigo robes flapped in the wind, making his every expert movement seem infinitely more graceful.

Thin ribbons of fire extended from Jeong Jeong's fingertips, lashing at and twisting around Ozai, who did his best to fend them off. One tendril found his arm, singeing it angry red and earning a shout of pain and frustration. With a wild, forceful strike of both hands, an inferno ploughed into Jeong Jeong.

There was a brief moment of terror during which Aang thought for sure the old master was going to be burned alive. Instead, he cleaved the blaze in two with a calm befitting a sage.

The fight resumed, ferociously, an expert demonstration of exactly what abilities the Comet granted. Ozai launched enormous blasts of fire his opponent's way, which were easily deflected or countered with quick, small, and precise flames. It became clear that the former was tiring, having to not only fight someone whose skills matched – if not _exceeded_ – his own, but having to propel himself through the air at the whole time. Annoyance etched itself onto his face. A sense of foreboding struck Aang as he summoned the power of wind to climb the sky toward them, intent on aiding Jeong Jeong.

A massive burst of fire exploded from the Fire Lord's fingertips, spreading itself across the windshield of the enemy firebender's airship. More flames followed, blackening the glass and managing to ignite one of the propellers. Then, determined to end things quickly, he began making those deadly circles with his hands.

"_No_!" Aang shouted, his voice more his own than it had been since entering the Avatar State. Bending without thought, he called on the earth that had crumbled and scattered in the wake of other fallen airships, hurling it toward Ozai.

But the man had heard his shout, looked down at the right moment, and easily swerved away from the projectile rocks before connecting his fingertips.

Sparks arced, then lightning added blue to the too-red scene, hitting the metal siding of Jeong Jeong's ship, electrocuting and destroying. It spiralled dismally toward the ground, like a leaf finally pulled free of its hold to a branch.

_"Jeong Jeong!"_

All the power and control seemed to leave him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Aang noted how dark the battlefield became without his glow.

Then he was back up on that pathway of stars, staring at a giant version of himself, watching it slowly fall. It shattered the cosmic walkway on which he stood, sending him plummeting toward the Earth.

And then he really _was_ plummeting. Thankfully, he hadn't risen very high and the impact managed only to rattle his bones painfully, bruising but not breaking.

For a moment he just lay there, staring up at the second, temporary sun carving its way through the clouds. All around him was wreckage – of homes, of airships, of nature itself. Somewhere among it all, Jeong Jeong's body lay, broken and burnt. It was everything he had failed to protect.

"Finally given up, have you, Avatar?" Ozai's voice called from a short distance above. Aang couldn't find the strength to turn his head and look for him. "Well, I'll reward your good sense by making this quick."

Fire roared as he reared back to strike.

_'They'll all be so disappointed in me . . . They're all still fighting_.'

It was the only motivation he needed to roll out of the way just as a concussive blast of fire collided with the dirt that had cushioned his head.

"I'll never give up!" he declared, rising to his feet, determined gray eyes meeting outraged gold.

Then the wind lifted him to the sky, and fire duelled all four elements once more.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Sorry for the delay! I was out of province last weekend, so I had no way of updating. Hopefully this isn't too short!_

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	51. Chapter 51

As clouds and sea rushed by above and below them, Katara clung to the ridge in the ruby dragon's scales and prayed it didn't decide to roll. Wind whipped her hair back behind her, stinging the skin of her face with refreshing cold as they flew toward the Northern Water Tribe.

"I never thanked you properly for saving me," said Zuko's voice low in her ear. His arms were wrapped loosely around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder, everything about him warm and alive. It was easy to forget the state he had been in not so long ago.

"I was just returning the favour," She said, leaning back against him. Then, with a slight grin, she added, "Nothing personal."

He breathed a laugh, hugging her tighter. "And all that stuff after?"

The smile slipped from her face as she noticed the serious undertone, remembered what she had said and done just before Ursa's arrival. "Not a word of lie."

A sigh of relief pushed her hair opposite the wind.

Below, far out on the horizon, flecks of pinkish-white interrupted the red ocean. A few black clouds hovered ominously above the scene. Katara felt Zuko's muscles tense.

"Hate to say it," he said, "but I _really_ hope one of those ships is Jet."

The massive, serpentine beast below them slithered through the sky, its wings beating away the smoke that thickened the air as they neared the battle scene. The wreckage of two airships bobbed, just visible, near the surface of the water. But there were also stranded canoes and limp bodies littering the sea, all blued by cold and paint and cloth.

Shifting one of his hands away from her waist, Zuko squeezed Katara's own hand reassuringly, prompting her to turn away from the gruesome sight. Breathing deep past the lump in her throat, she took a moment to compose herself before asking, "How do we make this thing fight for us?"

"How should I know?"

She twisted around to face him, forgetting for a moment the terrible possibility of falling from the dragon's scaly back. "You're the one who grew up hearing stories about them!"

"Yeah, but I've never actually heard of anyone _taming_ a dragon!"

Scowling, she opened her mouth to retort – only for their mount to abruptly jerk to the left, forcing Zuko to grab Katara tight around the waist and the dragon by its ridged neck to prevent them both from falling.

"We argue too much," Katara murmured into his shoulder, relaxing against him.

"No kidding," he scoffed.

Glancing down, Zuko saw what had caused the beast's sudden change in direction – they were now circling the battleground of air and sea, which had gone from a stalemate to mutual awe. Rumbling low in its throat, the dragon dipped lower, toward the waterbenders in their canoes, who looked at once terrified and determined. The gusts from the dragon's wings sent ripples across the water through the fur of the warriors' anoraks.

Then the dragon was tipping upward again (Zuko felt gravity trying to pull him backward and clung, white-knuckled, to the small ridge of scales), gliding toward the airships with their black siding and fiery red insignias, growling low in its throat once more.

Only, one of the ships wasn't decorated with fire, or even the colour red. Instead, a shockingly bright blue arrow stretched along the side of the ship. Instant relief spread through Zuko; Jet and the others weren't among the sunken airships.

"What's it _doing_?" Katara demanded, clinging tightly to Zuko as their mount dipped down again. Another growl rumbled through it.

"I think it's asking permission to attack," he said, stomach dropping as they were suddenly climbing upward again. The dragon seemed to be growing impatient, smoke curling from its nostrils as it growled at the hovering airships.

"How do we say 'yes'?"

"Like this."

Removing his hand from her waist, Zuko drew back, calling on all the energy he could muster (surprisingly little or surprisingly much when one considered Sozin's Comet and being struck by lightning). Punching forward, he hurled a fireball at one of the dirigibles. It dispersed across the protective metal harmlessly.

But the dragon instantly understood and, with a fearsome roar, unleashed the most magnificent "Breath of Fire" Zuko had ever witnessed. The water glittered red and green and blue and silver in its wake, like every firework he had ever seen combined into one fiery blast.

Abruptly, the dragon was diving and rolling and both teens found themselves clinging to its scales for dear life as sky then water then sky rushed by and a cannon ball narrowly missed their heads. Scarlet streaked past on their right, then just over their shoulders, and then seemingly from every direction as the firebenders harnessed to the airships retaliated. The dragon nose-dived, seeking the only protection available –

Katara's arms rose as it descended, forming a tunnel through the ocean. They dipped down into it, fire at their heels (well, _tail_), her arms making complex and ceaseless movements to support and extend and seal off their burrow into the ocean. Mottled patches of light shone through the shifting surface, revealing only vague shapes above. Flames hissed along the water, but couldn't penetrate.

Sinking back against Zuko's chest, Katara let out a heavy sigh. Her arms felt like lead. "I don't know if I have another technique like that in me."

"You should have taken some of that Oasis water for yourself," he murmured, loosening his hold on her waist, the strange light tinting his fingers icy blue.

"Why? I'm not hurt that badly."

"Didn't exactly fix my injury that much either, now did it?" The image of angry red, blistering flesh flitted through both their minds. "But I feel strong again. Like I had new life breathed into me."

"New life . . ." Katara repeated, the words bringing back memories of white hair and a soft voice and a profound sacrifice. "Zuko, I think I know where we need to go."

XxXx

"The cowards!" Jet shouted, staring out the window as a red dragon emerged from the ocean and turned, not back toward the enemy airships, but to the Northern Water Tribe's capital city. "Why are _they_ running away? They've got a fire-breathing dragon!"

Mai, who had torn off her remaining sleeve and wrapped his head with it (she concluded that repairing his mangled ear was "hopeless"), remained silent. The slightest of frowns betrayed her opinion on the matter, however.

Toph, on the other hand, was staring in Jet's general direction as though he had turned into a tap-dancing platypus-bear. "They _left_? You expect me to believe that Sparky and Sugar Queen just rode in on a _dragon_ and then _left_?"

"He's not lying," Mai vouched in that dull tone of hers, eyes never straying from the scene outside. After a pause, she turned to Jet and said, "We should move. Everyone knows this is an enemy ship now. It's only a matter of time before they kill us."

"I know he's not _lying_," Toph grumbled, but at this point the pair was engrossed in a discussion about which ship to hitch a ride on and so failed to notice.

Yes, that's right – _Mai_ was engrossed in a discussion. With _Jet_. Granted, most of her input was either monosyllabic or offered in the most bored tone she could muster, but the fact still remained that it was a very unusual occurrence.

"We'll have to be a lot more careful this time," Jet was saying, leaning against the control panel and staring out what Toph presumed was a window of some sort. His pulse throbbed near his mangled ear but was otherwise calm, free of the usual high pressure associated with close proximity to a Fire Nation native. "They'll be expecting us."

"We should signal Teo. Otherwise he might kill us."

"Right."

It was hard to pick up, but Toph's well-trained ears detected a warmer quality to Mai's voice. Not like she was dripping honey or reminiscent of Ty Lee or anything, but rather like when any of Toph's guards or maids would try to scold her for trying to sneak out. Beneath all the prickliness there was always a hint of something . . . _nice. _

"Alright," Jet said, pulling levers and (carefully, thank Oma) turning the steering wheel. "We're going in."

XxXx

Fire rained down on the ruined fields, gleaming on the dirt and soot encrusted armour of soldiers, dead and alive. One brave woman, whose left arm had been scorched beyond recognition, punched a ball of flame at the beast soaring by overhead. It glanced off the dragon's cobalt scales, failing to accomplish anything besides irritating it. Rounding on her, the dragon let out a vicious roar, swooped down –

Ty Lee averted her eyes, focusing instead on helping Sokka carry Piandao's body to the makeshift shelter Bumi had erected from the earth. She carried his legs and Sokka held him with both arms hooked under his armpits, the sword master's body sagging pitifully between them. Blood had dried black over his wounds. His eyes were shut, as if he had decided to try and sleep off his injuries.

Biting her lip, Ty Lee chanced a glance at Sokka. He stared down at the body of his mentor with a hardened gaze, but his arms trembled and she couldn't be sure if it was from exhaustion or restrained emotions.

"How much longer do you think this will last?" she asked quietly. Everything seemed quiet, suddenly – the distant chaos of battle, their feet shuffling over the charred and bloodied earth . . . . Even colours seemed muted, sapped of their life so that they were barely more than a dingy gray. Not even her usually vibrant pink aura could withstand the depressing effect.

Turning his gaze skyward, Sokka squinted at the passing Comet. "It can't last much longer. We've got them overpowered now, and Sozin's Comet has to be nearly done." Dropping his gaze, he caught her eye and, seeming to sense her weariness, offered a grin and said, "Just hang on a little longer – it'll be over soon."

She managed to smile in return and tried to turn her thoughts to something lighter – like the feel of Appa's soft fur, or the sand of Ember Island between her toes . . .

Entering the makeshift shelter, the pair heaved Piandao's body onto a raised platform of stone. Seated nearby on another platform, Pakku was nursing his badly burnt arm. Glad to have something other than Piandao's limp form to focus on (however grim it may be), they both gathered around the waterbender, eyeing the raw flesh.

"Bet you wish you'd trained fighters to be healers now, huh?" Sokka said, chuckling weakly in spite of his initial wince.

Pakku only spared him a withering look.

"You're not looking much better yourself," Iroh piped up from where he stood in the corner. He was mostly uninjured, aside from a few minor burns and singed robes, but his eyes held a sense of weariness and it was clear he didn't relish this revisit to his almost-conquest of Ba Sing Se.

"I'm fine," Sokka lied automatically, though the pain of his numerous wounds was worsened by his heightened awareness of them. He tried to move away – toward the exit and onto the battlefield – but Iroh was gripping his wrist in an instant and was forcing him to sit down on the ground.

"Our reinforcements are taking care of that now," he said gently. "Right now your job is to recover."

And so Sokka reluctantly sat, allowing Ty Lee and Iroh to tend to his wounds with what little resources they had. He stared out the triangular crack that served as the tent's entrance, watching as fire continued to ravage the fields beyond to distract himself from the corpse cooling across the room.

XxXx

The lush green grass of the Spirit Oasis looked brown in the light from the Comet, the circling forms of Yue and La looking pink where their scales should have been white.

But it was warm, just like Katara remembered, and it was safe from the invading forces. That, at least, was a comfort.

"Just like old times, huh?" Zuko commented, wincing as he slid off the dragon's back to join her on the ground.

"Except for the part where you tried to kill me."

"I never wanted to _kill_ you . . ."

She turned to him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, a playful little smirk on her lips as she said, "Well, it was kinda hard to tell with all the _fire_ you were throwing at me."

"Right," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Point taken."

They stood in silence for a moment, absorbed in the foreign sense of peace and the memories of the Oasis. The red glow of the Comet wasn't so different from that of the endangered moon, Katara realized with a twisting gut. What would happen once the Comet left? Would the night sky be lightless again, all balance tossed aside for the sake of conquest and power?

"So what are we here for?" Zuko asked, striding slowly toward the koi pond. He stared down at the swirling fish curiously.

"That's the Ocean and Moon spirits," Katara explained, moving to join him. "Zhao killed the original during the last siege – you know, when the sky went black? Yue gave her life to replace it, and the Ocean spirit helped Aang take out the invading forces."

Understanding spread across his face, smoothing out his furrowed brow and frowning lips. "You think they'll help again?"

She nodded, throat suddenly too tight to speak. What if they _wouldn't_ help? How would she and Zuko keep fighting? Who would protect her Northern brethren?

'_I can't think about that now_,' she told herself and, with a deep breath to steel her resolve, she took a step closer to the pond and knelt on the soft grass beside it. Watching the circling fish, she couldn't help feeling slightly idiotic as she spoke her request – it was alright for Aang to do these things (it was his _job_ after all), but when anyone else tried they tended to look a little crazy.

"So please, Yue," she finished, closing her eyes and envisioning the beautiful princess, "help us protect your people."

There was a pause. Total silence, not the slightest stir of change. Katara kept her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to have to admit to failure quite so soon.

"What –?" she heard Zuko breath. There was a wonder and shock to his tone that had her eyes open at once.

There, floating above her, was Yue, composed of light and mist. The ethereal princess held her arms out in welcome, a soft smile on her glowing face. Suddenly, the whole universe seemed to be at peace, as if the war had never existed.

"Katara," she said, voice reverberating from everywhere and nowhere, filled with friendly warmth. "How can I help you?"

"It's the war," Zuko said, moving closer and kneeling beside Katara. His voice snapped her out of her awed stupor, allowing her to finish his statement, "The Fire Nation is attacking the Northern Water Tribe, but we're both hurt –" she gestured to Zuko's starburst entrance wound "– and we don't have the strength to fight them off. I wondered if . . . if maybe you could fight for us, like when the Ocean helped during Zhao's siege."

Some of the happiness slipped from Yue's face, her head bowing apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I can't. A spirit only interferes in physical matters when they cause an imbalance, and even then I would need a proper host – I would need Aang."

"But they're destroying your home!" Zuko protested, hands clenching into fists. "You can't just sit back and watch!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't change the separation between my world and yours. I can't fight for you."

Katara felt her heart sinking, like the bodies of her people in the ocean beyond the city. Now what could they do? Sure, they had a dragon on their side, but it took all their strength to hold onto it when it was flying straight, never mind when it was evading cannonballs and firebenders. And they couldn't exactly control how it chose to defend itself – another plunge into the water and they would be done for.

"However . . . I still might be able to help you."

Her gaze snapped up to meet the princess's "How?"

Smiling, Yue glided closer, reaching out with both hands. She touched the two teens' foreheads with gentle, glowing fingers, and Katara instantly felt warmth spread through her. It melted away the ache and stiffness of her joints and lifted the leaden feeling from her limbs, filling her with energy like a day of rest or a celebratory feast.

Then, abruptly, Yue was gone and the Oasis was dark once more, leaving Katara and Zuko kneeling by the pond, alone.

* * *

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its contents are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	52. Chapter 52

"Hurry! _Move_!" Jet hissed, crouching behind Mai and Toph as they carefully made their way toward the airship's exit, wary of what crew members might remain alive. Toph assured him that there were very few of them left and that they were all on the opposite end of the ship, but he still didn't want to risk another ambush.

Finally, they reached the room with the hatch leading down to the narrow metal walkways beneath the ship. It appeared that the ropes that had been dangling the firebender from before over the ocean had snapped, their frayed remains fluttering in the wind.

"You guys know the drill," Jet said, nudging Toph toward the ladder.

The blind girl hesitated for a moment, facing the void below with palpable dread, before huffing and beginning her descent, grumbling the whole way down.

This time, Jet and Mai followed immediately after – with no way of steering the ship directly into the enemy's, they would have to act as Toph's eyes. Wind tore at their tattered clothes and hair as they carefully made their way along the catwalk; Jet never let his gaze stray from the firebender harnessed to the vessel they planned to hijack. He stood directly across from them, though was facing toward the waterbenders continuing to struggle valiantly to defend their home. The ocean rose up in a shield of icy spikes as the unsuspecting firebender lobbed balls of flame at the canoe-riding warriors.

"Toph! He's right in front of you!" Jet shouted to the girl kneeling on a cautious distance from the end of the catwalk. But the wind was fierce and tossed his voice aside before it could reach her keen ears. "_Toph_!"

It was no use; he wasn't close enough, having only tip-toed a short distance along the precarious walkway. Between the wind and the battle below and Toph's preoccupation with not falling into the unknown, there was no way she would be able to hear him. He would have to get right in her ear.

So he took a step closer.

Several things happened then: first, he lost his footing, everything seeming unbalanced with his mangled ear and the gale ramming his side and panic making his limbs jittery. The sea, waving and sparkling red, rushed to greet him, but a vice grip caught his wrist, jerking him to a painful stop as the world continued to spin.

Then, whether because he heard the cry that had been torn involuntarily from Jet's throat or because he saw the commotion in his peripheral, the firebender on the other ship turned toward them. Time seemed to slow – he tensed, reared back, igniting his fist as both Mai and Jet shouted, more desperate than ever to be heard.

And in the same breath there was an uprising of panic across the sky and the waters as ruby scales suddenly burst into sight, gliding up over the ice wall guarding the frozen city. Jet wasn't sure if he felt relief at Zuko and Katara's return or renewed anger at their having left in the first place, as he was somewhat distracted by the possibility of everyone _dying_.

But as the flames rushed toward Toph's head, the tiny bender (maybe she heard their cries or felt their panicked heartbeats or sensed the oncoming heat) was suddenly bringing both arms up sharply, twisting the end of the catwalk on which she knelt into a barrier. Then, equally swift, she moved one hand in a downward slicing motion, creating a steep slope in the strip of metal on which her enemy stood, knowing his location from the strike.

Gravity jerked him downward, and he hung helplessly from his ropes, just like his ally before him.

"I can't pull you up," Mai said, lowering herself into a crouch and extending her free hand to grasp his. The strain of his weight was apparent in her face, mask abandoned in the dire moment.

"It's okay," he said, ignoring her offered hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, let his head hang. "I'm badly hurt, anyway – just let me drop."

"No."

His eyes shot open and his head jerked up to look at her, surprised at the uncharacteristic firmness of her tone and gaze.

"Jet!" Toph called, crawling closer. Her voice had risen to an unnatural pitch, sounding like a frightened little girl instead of a mighty warrior. Jet felt his chest clench painfully.

"He's okay," Mai said, gripping his one hand with both of hers, ruining any chance he may have had at simply letting go. "I can't pull him up."

"No problem. I can –"

A savage roar met their ears and an instant later the airship they had been in the process of hijacking was engulfed in a rainbow of flames, scarcely giving the hanging soldier a chance to scream. The stench of burning flesh and scorched metal wafted over them, causing the trio to choke and gag.

"They don't know it's us!" Jet shouted once he had recovered, throat stinging and eyes burning while his hands, slick with sweat, began cramping under the force of his weight. Glaring up at Mai, he ordered, "Let me go!"

"No," she repeated in that same stubborn tone even as beads of moisture began trickling down her forehead from the strain.

Toph, on the other hand, looked and sounded appalled. "Are you _crazy_? We can't _drop_ you! Even if you are a pain in the ass most of the time!"

Then, with a few carefully orchestrated hand motions, she bent the nearest catwalk running parallel to theirs down and twisted it to the side, forming a straight-backed "Z" shape with the bottom leg positioned just below Jet's feet.

"_Now_ You can drop him."

And so Mai did. He landed clumsily, quickly latching onto the upright section of his tiny platform to catch his balance. The world spiralled as he watched the torched airship crash into the ocean, creating an enormous spray and ripple of shockwaves that made the all the waterbenders' canoes bob frantically.

Then the dragon was swooping past, letting out a mighty roar that showed off its razor teeth, close enough for its wings to throw gusts of wind at Jet but too far for its riders to recognize him, screaming flames at another Fire Nation craft.

Maybe Zuko and Katara had seen the oddly twisted metal of the ship and realized Toph was aboard? There was no way of really knowing, and Jet didn't want to gamble his life with guesses.

"We have to signal them somehow!"

"I've got an idea!" Toph said, carefully crawling toward the ladder leading back up into the airship as she spoke. The dragon continued circling the battlefield, twirling and swerving to avoid fire and cannonballs and making Jet wonder how Katara and Zuko managed to hold on. It dove down, evading a hail of flames, its claws skimming along the water's surface.

"Hurry!" Jet barked, turning his face away from the hot steam that rose with each blast.

Toph, now leaning on the ladder for support against the high winds, grumbled something profane in response. There was the horrible sound of buckling metal an instant later, and for the briefest of moments Jet thought another ship had crashed into them.

Then he looked up and saw the true source of the noise – Toph was using her bending to create a shallow dent in the bulbous body of the airship. It looked as though she was trying to form some sort of shape . . .

Wordlessly, Mai moved closer to the younger girl, took her hand, and traced a design on its palm with one of her fingers. Nodding, Toph made subtle adjustments to the indentation – revealing the distinct image of an arrow.

"Think that'll give them the message?"

Staring up at the dented siding, Jet couldn't stifle his wide grin. "That's perfect – they'll definitely know whose side we're on, now!"

The words barely left his lips when there was an explosion overhead, reverberating through the ship and almost throwing Jet off his perch. He clung to the vertical strip of metal connecting him to the rest of the ship; Mai and Toph gripped the ladder. Looking up, Jet felt his heart sink along with the now-rapidly-descending airship.

A cannon ball-sized hole had been blasted through the center of the arrow.

And then there was a rush of air behind him and next thing he knew something had grabbed him by the foot and he was swinging through the air, dangling inches above the glittering surface of the ocean. The world spun as he was hauled upward, and then warm arms were wrapped around him and Katara's voice was right in his ear, saying, "You're alright! We were so worried – we thought you were with Teo and then that mark appeared and –"

"Mai!" he cut in, wrenching himself free and turning back toward the doomed airship. "She and Toph are still onboard – we can't leave them!"

"Didn't plan to," Zuko said calmly from where he sat at the dragon's head. A swift and simple hand motion sent a stream of fire to their left, prompting the beast to turn in the direction, flying back toward the airborne vessel at top speed.

There was hardly time to blink before they were right beside the damaged craft again, hardly time for Jet to get a hold of himself and reach out for Mai's hand at the same time as Katara reached for Toph's.

And then, in an instant, the two girls were on the back of the serpentine creature with them, just as the airship collided with the ocean, sending a spray of saltwater over their faces.

"What the hell?" Toph shrieked, fingers splayed across the slick scales of the dragon, a look of confusion and absolute terror on her face.

Resting a hand on her back, Katara said, "Relax – it's us. We're, er . . . we're riding on the back of a dragon."

Fire zipped past overhead.

"A back you should _probably_ hold onto," Zuko advised, glancing back at his bewildered new passengers. "Unless you want to be thrown off into the ocean."

Toph promptly latched onto Katara, who was gripping one of the many small ridges lining the beast's spine. Crawling a little further along the back of the creature, Jet settled himself in front of another ridge, holding on with both hands. Mai followed suit, positioning herself beside him. Goosebumps rose all along her bare arms, though he couldn't tell if it was from fear or the wind.

Then the dragon was swerving sharply to evade an oncoming cannonball and all thought of conversation evaporated from Jet's mind.

XxXx

"Sokka!" Ty Lee called from just outside the makeshift rock-tent. "Sokka, come look at this!"

Taking one last glance at Piandao, the only other person who remained inside the dark shelter, Sokka pulled himself to his feet and limped over to the crevice serving as a door. The pain of his wounds had begun to settle in with his inactivity during the last . . . half-hour? Three hours? Eternity? It was hard to judge the time.

Regardless, his limbs were stiff and his brain begged him for sleep, but the pain and ever-present memories of war prevented him from drifting off.

"Look!" Ty Lee called when he stepped out, now standing several meters back from the shelter and pointing toward the sky above the city (or what remained of it, at least). In the distance behind her, he could see Bumi and Iroh and all those who had come to their aid rounding up the soldiers who had been wise enough to surrender. The dragon, its blue scales making him ache for the simplicity of home, was curled up in front of the hole that had been smashed in the great wall of Ba Sing Se like an enormous guard eel-hound.

Moving to stand beside Ty Lee, he turned to face the direction she indicated.

And felt such a strong sense of relief he almost lost the strength to stand.

There, on the horizon, was a smattering of white clouds and dusky gray sky. Directly above them, it turned a dingy pink and, the closer it was to the Outer Wall, deep red. A light glimmered far off on the horizon, beyond that supposedly-impenetrable wall.

Sozin's Comet had almost passed.

The war was as good as over.

* * *

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.  
**


	53. Chapter 53

Exhausted was not a strong enough word to describe how Aang felt – dead and buried seemed more appropriate.

But he couldn't take a moment to gather his second wind (or was it third, now?) because Ozai was still under the influence of Sozin's Comet and lusting for the glory of claiming the Avatar's head and Ba Sing Se's freedom. The once-beautiful landscape of the Upper Ring had been reduced to a smouldering wasteland of airships, the only two left hovering in the sky being Chojo's and Ozai's grand ship, though neither made any motion to strike the other down. Maybe they felt as if they had been dead and buried, too, fatigue weighing them down like six feet of dirt.

Fire streaked by and Aang twirled to avoid it, finding himself clumsy atop his column of air. Everything had been so much easier in the Avatar State, with a chorus of voices whispering into his ear, the experience of his past lives guiding his every action. Now he had only himself to rely on, unable to focus long enough to tap into that well of power and knowledge he knew was still inside him somewhere.

More fire rushed toward him from behind as Ozai, still propelled by the flames at his heels, circled around him at top speed. By the time he registered the oncoming projectile, it was too late to evade it; the fist-sized blasts peppered burn marks across his torso, the impact throwing him off his precarious balance.

Tumbling through the air toward solid ground was becoming an unpleasantly familiar sensation.

Acting on his airbender instincts, he summoned a pocket of swirling wind to cushion his fall. It slowed his descent, but barely – his back still slammed into the dirt with enough force to bruise, rattling his bones like a snake-rat's tail. Groaning, he hauled his weary body back to its feet, thankful for the stability of solid earth (though he still felt himself subconsciously swaying is if trying to maintain his balance in the air). He dreaded his inevitable return to the battlefield above.

Then again, who said that meant he had to leave to ground?

With an upward thrust of his arms, he dislodged the patch of earth on which he stood, pulling it higher and higher into the air. Cackling above alerted him to Ozai, though when he looked up he saw that the sound was not warning of a strike – the Fire Lord simply thought his new mode of transport was hilarious.

"You're not hoping to out-fly me like that, are you?" he taunted, demonstrating how ludicrous this idea was by darting around Aang at a speed that made it impossible for the young Avatar to keep track of him.

"No, I –" he started to retort, but was cut short when Ozai zipped below and popped up behind him, slugging him so hard in the back of the head that he lost all sense of direction. Blinking rapidly, his vision cleared just in time to see Ozai (now in front of him) rearing back a flaming fist.

Punching one hand downward and the other upward, he broke off a chunk of his hovering rock and used it as a shield. It exploded in a hail of rocky shrapnel, forcing both to throw their hands over their eyes.

When the dust cleared and it was safe to look again, Aang noted with some satisfaction that narrow cuts were scattered across the Fire Lord's arms and chest, adding to his small collection of injuries. Not only that – he looked _tired_, breath coming ragged, some of the ferocity and determination slipping from his face.

That's when he noticed it; behind Ozai, a thin band of gray and another of pink were stretching across the horizon, overlapping at the very edges. The rest of the sky was still the same heart-sinking red, but the change was enough to make Aang feel as light as the winds he commanded.

"You've lost your advantage," he said, pointing to the shifting colours with a satisfied grin.

Ozai's eyes widened, then narrowed angrily, but he never dared turn his back to verify Aang's claim. When he spoke, it was with barely contained fury:"You couldn't even match my power in the Avatar State! You're _weak_ – I don't need Sozin's Comet to crush you!"

With flaring nostrils and gritted teeth, he charged, like some kind of airborne bull-shark thirsting for blood. But Aang wasn't deterred, felt a strange sense of confidence rising inside like the swelling of the sea and _knew_ that Ozai didn't have the strength left to fight like this.

Sure enough, the Fire Lord's attempts to attack were pitiful, only able to produce tiny puffs of flame now that so much energy had to be focused on maintaining flight. Casually, Aang batted aside the sad flames, uncharacteristically pleased by the growing fear in Ozai's eyes.

"If you want," he began, easing his levitating stone to the side to evade another strike, "you can surrender now and pay for your cruelties in prison. I know it doesn't sound like much of an offer, but it's a lot better than the alternative."

This earned a crazed laugh from Ozai, who, with wide eyes and ragged breathing, shouted, "I would rather _die_ than give in to such a coward!"

"Alright," Aang said solemnly. "You had your chance."

Then, drawing on all his strength, he moved his arms in swift, intricate circles, creating a whirlwind of air. He extended it, made it arc up then dip down so its swirling, high-velocity mouth began to press down on Ozai, almost swallowing him. Panicked, the Fire Lord tried to destroy the winds with a blast of fire, only to set them ablaze and completely abandon control of the fire streaming from his feet. The flames disappeared into wisps of smoke and he plummeted, the tornado of fire pursuing.

When both reached the ground and all Aang could see were thick curls of smoke, he remained rooted to the spot. His body begged for collapse, but that would mean returning to solid ground and witnessing – without any distractions – the ruins of Ba Sing Se, witnessing what his victory had caused.

Maybe he could hover there forever, just him and his rock . . .

"Aang!" someone shouted. He whipped around, saw an airship behind him with a shattered windshield, and remembered that Chojo was still there. She waved at him through the hole where glass should have been. "I'll fly you down to the others! We can tell them the good news!"

He wasted no time taking her up on her offer.

' _Finally_,' he thought once onboard the ship, collapsing against the wall and letting his eyes slide shut. '_It's finally over_.'

* * *

Author's Notes:_ Incredibly short, I know, but there's still one more chapter left after this, and I wanted this scene to be separate from the others. _

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **


	54. Chapter 54

All Zuko could see was a sea of red. His muscles ached and the burn on his chest twinged as he struggled to free himself from his compromising position. How was he ever going to get out of this situation?

Somewhere behind him, Katara let out an annoyed sigh. "Honestly, Zuko, you're worse than Sokka."

There was a sharp tug, then the fabric obscuring his eyesight fell away. Moving to stand in front of him, Katara helped him free his arms from the tangled cloth, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"It's hard to dress yourself when you can't lift your arms," he muttered defensively, watching as her fingers deftly tied his robe shut. She tightened the sash, earning a wince as it pulled at the still-healing skin of his lightning-scar.

Loosening it, Katara smiled apologetically. "You better hurry – the ceremony starts in less than half an hour."

"Right."

She returned to her perch at the end of his bed, plopping down on the silk sheets and revelling in the comfort of a proper mattress. It had been three days since the end of the war, time she had spent almost entirely in the palace after giving aid to the warriors who needed it in the North Pole and doing what she could to help her friends and the survivors of the siege on Ba Sing Se. Still, even having the simplest of comforts seemed like a miracle after what they had gone through.

"It's strange," she mused, fingering the embroidery on the elegant robe she had been given to replace her old tattered garments. It was such a deep shade of red it was almost purple with gold and silver leaves interconnected along the hems of the sleeves. "I used to hate being in this room – being in this _palace_ – but now . . ."

Zuko turned away from the mirror, letting his top-knot-in-progress collapse around his face. "'But now' what?"

Biting her lip, she stared down at her hands, not sure if she wanted to speak her thoughts aloud. Eventually, however, Zuko's prying gaze forced her to answer. "But now I . . . sort of never want to leave."

For a moment he just stared at her, as though trying to gauge the truth of her words. Gradually, a warm smile spread across his face. Dropping the ribbon he had been attempting to tie up his hair with, he strode over to the bed, sat down beside her, and leaned in close to kiss her. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, "You don't have to."

Grinning, Katara laced her arms around his neck, moving in for another kiss.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?"

The two teens sprang apart, cheeks glowing with embarrassment. Chuckling, Iroh (who stood in the doorway) winked not-so-subtly at his nephew and said, "My apologies. I just wanted to make sure you weren't having any trouble getting ready."

"No, uncle," Zuko stammered, jumping to his feet and hurrying to retrieve the ribbon from the floor. "E-everything's fine."

"Alright then," he said, wearing that same amused expression. "I'll get out of your hair."

After he left, the pair fell into an awkward silence, Zuko struggling to tie his topknot and Katara studying her shoes, cheeks still burning. The discomfort and quiet had become rather commonplace since the end of the war and all things distracting them from their mutual, out-in-the-open feelings. They had barely adjusted to the idea of being friends before the battle started, after all, and now people were . . . talking.

With a sigh of defeat, Zuko let his hair fall into mess around his face, massaging the sensitive muscles near his burn.

"Let me get that," Katara said gently, getting to her feet and moving closer. Pulling the ribbon from his fingers, she skilfully pulled his dark tresses back into a regal ponytail, winding the red strip of cloth around the hair to keep it in place. All the while, Zuko kept his eyes bashfully averted, increasingly flustered by his inability to do the simplest of things.

Resting both hands on his shoulders, she smiled up at him. "_Relax_. You look great." Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she stepped back and said, "I'm gonna go see how the others are doing."

"Can you thank them again for putting up with all this?"

"Sure thing," she called as she left the room, only to pause and turn to face him just outside the door. Pointing a stern finger, she added, "_Don't_ try and be a tough guy – call a servant to help you."

Zuko laughed, but agreed nonetheless; an angry Katara was _not_ something he wanted to deal with again.

XxXx

"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence!" Sokka shouted in greeting, opening his arms in invitation for a hug. Burns lined his face and hands, the new layers of skin raw and red in reminder of what he had lived through. She knew he would never look quite the same, but his smile was as glowing as ever and she found that made the scars fade into the background.

Accepting his embrace, she couldn't stop the question everyone wondered from slipping out: "How are you feeling?"

"_Fine_. Now stop asking." There was no anger in his voice, but when she stepped back she saw something different in his eyes – sadness, a certain distance.

The memory of Piandao's burial on the battlefield leapt, unbidden, to her mind. It was hard not to shudder.

"How's Zuko?" Ty Lee asked cheerfully, and Katara was immensely grateful for the change in subject.

""Good – a bit nervous and uncoordinated, but he's doing fine."

Beaming, Ty Lee clapped her hands together and rocked on her heels, short hair bouncing with the motion. Letting out an excited little squeal, she cried, "I can't wait! This is going to be so _amazing_ – totally not traditional!"

The commotion earned some curious and amused looks from the other people loitering in the vast entryway waiting for the ceremony to begin. Mainly it was new servants and cooks and guards that had been hired to replace all the ones Azula had fired, but there were also familiar faces – Aang, the Kyoshi warriors, the Sun Warriors, Smellerbee and Longshot, Jun, and the Order of the White Lotus. It was strange, seeing such an array of people in a palace full of rich carpets, elaborate tapestries, and beautiful portraits.

"Sokka?"

Startled, Katara turned toward the familiar voice. A few feet away, dressed in her armour and face paint, was Suki, blue eyes flitting from her sort-of-boyfriend to former enemy. A few creases stretched across her forehead and wiggled between her eyes as she furrowed her brow in obvious confusion.

"Suki!" He shouted in response, voice far too loud and the laugh that followed far too high-pitched. He wrapped his arm around Ty Lee's waist, then immediately retracted it, shuffling his feet and fidgeting. "Hey, uh, hi. Been a while. This is, um –" he gestured clumsily to Ty Lee, as though his left hand wanted to move instead of his right "– this is Ty Lee. My, um, we're, uh . . ."

Stretching out her hand to the baffled Suki in offer of a handshake, Ty Lee cheerfully proclaimed, "I'm his girlfriend!"

Katara scurried away before the tension in the air could get any thicker.

As she made her way across the entrance hall, familiar faces greeted her enthusiastically while new ones scrutinized, half the people already celebrating with drinks ('_Where did they find those?_' she wondered) and singing. Iroh was still getting ready for the big event, but she could hear his spirit in the White Lotus' rousing rendition of "Four Seasons, Four Loves".

"Katara!" Ursa called, breaking away from the off-key group. Beaming down at Katara, she said, "I'm sorry about what I said before – about you and Zuko. I still think this kind of lifestyle will be very difficult for you, but . . . you're a strong girl. And you're good for him."

Feeling colour rise to her cheeks, Katara laughed nervously and tried to brush aside the compliment. "I-it's nothing, really, I just – he's –"

Ursa lifted a hand to silence her, smile broadening. "I just want you to know that I'm okay with whatever decision you make."

Then she slipped away, returning to her place beside Bumi to belt out the chorus along with a red-cheeked and obviously tipsy Pakku. Aang soon joined them, beaming and moving his arms like a conductor's, his voice the loudest among the group. It was easy to forget he had just recently overthrown a tyrannical warlord.

Feeling flustered with a warm face and frantic heart, Katara scanned the crowd and made a B-line for the first familiar people she saw – Mai and Jet, both standing along the back wall, away from the festivities. As she neared the duo, Katara saw that Jet's face was as blank as Mai, detecting a rising level of discomfort in the air the closer she came. It was as if she had walked in on the awkward silence to end all awkward silences.

"Katara!" Jet greeted, expression shifting to one of utmost relief, as though she had just rescued him from an unwinnable battle. White bandages were wound around his head, hiding his mangled ear from sight, an injury Katara had deemed beyond repair.

"Hey, Jet," she said, unable to suppress an amused grin at his obvious desperation. Turning to his companion, who leaned against the wall with crossed arms and a look of boredom, she added, "Hi, Mai. Enjoying the party?

"How long do we have to wait until the ceremony starts?"

"Should be very soon," she answered, smile only broadened at Jet's somewhat exasperated reaction.

The other girl gave a half nod, eyes trailing after a pair of twirling servants who had decided to take advantage of the festive occasion. Both were a bit clumsy on their feet and not quite in time with the song their friends were gleefully belting out, but happiness seemed to radiate from them.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Jet was already grabbing Katara's elbow as he asked her this, giving her no choice but to follow him to a spot just out of Mai's earshot. The gaze of the girl in question flicked over to them, narrowed slightly, then reluctantly returned to the dancing couple.

Clamping both hands down on Katara's shoulders, Jet shook her gently and hissed, "_Help me_."

She couldn't keep from laughing; how in the world had Jet gone from wanting to see all the Fire Nation natives eradicated from the face of the Earth, to fretting over how to talk to one of the nation's stoic nobles?

Recovering from her mirth, she met his scowling gaze and said, "I think, where Mai's concerned, you just kind of have to force her into having a good time."

His brow furrowed, eyes darting briefly toward the girl in question before returning to Katara. "And how exactly do I do that? She won't even _talk_."

"Just drag her to the dance floor when the party gets properly started. Trust me – you won't need any fancy gimmicks to win her over."

There was a brief moment when Jet looked utterly confused. Then, eyes widening, he spluttered, "What? You think I –? No! I don't –"

But his protests were drowned out by a sudden roar of applause. Turning, they saw Zuko and Iroh standing beneath a large archway on the left side of the entrance hall. Both were dressed in regal looked red robes with their hair pulled back in tight topknots. Iroh beamed at the crowd of onlookers. Zuko, meanwhile, looked slightly queasy.

"Greetings everyone, old and new!" Iroh began, spreading his arms wide as though he intended to hug everyone gathered there. "First, I would like to thank all those who fought with us and for us – your efforts and your sacrifices are the reason my nephew and I are able to stand before you now.

"Second, I want to invite you all to the coronation plaza to commence what we all have eagerly been awaiting; the crowning of the New Fire Lord!"

Enthusiastic applause followed this, punctuated by joyous whoops from Sokka and Ty Lee.

Then everyone was moving toward the front doors, sweeping Katara along like an unbendable ocean current even as she tried to make her way over to Zuko. Soon, she found herself in the bright sunlight, treading across the scorched and crater-dotted front yard that had served as a battlefield for her and Azula. Averting her eyes from the spot where she knew the young girl's corpse had laid, she whispered a silent prayer to Yue that peace had found her in the Spirit World.

Soon everyone had made their way through the capital city to the specified location and Katara found herself dead center of the crowd, sandwiched between two very tall men in guards' uniforms. In front of her was a rather robust woman who wore the clothing of a palace seamstress. Craning her neck and standing on tip-toes, she struggled to see the slightly raised platform where the crowning would take place.

"Need a boost?"

Turning, she saw Toph pushing her way through the crowd behind, a smirk on her face as she gestured toward the stage. "I mean, I could always just _explain_ what's happening, but if you want to see for yourself –"

"Yes, please."

And then, with a jolt, Katara found herself several inches taller thanks to a block of raised earth beneath her feet. She was just high enough to see Zuko and Iroh kneeling side-by-side in front of the crowd, their heads bowed in wait. Toph, meanwhile, sighed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, grumbling about the length of royal ceremonies. Katara had half a mind to point out that Zuko and Iroh had been kind enough to declare the event informal and save them all the hassle of fancy robes and stiff shoes, but then a Fire Sage stepped onto the platform and a hush fell over the crowd.

Smiling at the people gathered before him, the aged man clasped his hands together, saying, "Today we have gathered to witness the ceremonial succession of power, the passing on of our – er, rather," he paused, gaze taking in the varied faces of each nation, "the _Fire Nation's_ throne, as has been the tradition for as long as written history remembers. However, there has been a rather . . . untraditional alteration in today's ceremony."

A few people murmured curiously, mostly the newcomer guards and servants. On stage, Zuko raised his head ever-so-slightly, a look of anxiety on his face as he scanned the crowd. Then he made eye-contact with Katara and, with a weak smile, appeared to relax somewhat.

The sage waited until silence fell once more before continuing. "Today, ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce your new Fire Lord." As he spoke, he moved across the stage, stopping when he stood between Iroh and Zuko. Pulling a gleaming golden crown shaped like flames from his sleeve, he held it in both hands, raising it high in the air as he announced, "Please welcome Fire Lord Iroh!"

Applause erupted as the crown was speared through the new ruler's topknot, though Katara detected some unhappy grumbling. Beaming, Iroh rose to his feet, holding one fist over the other and dipping his head in a Fire Nation style bow to the crowd. Then he moved aside, leaving only Zuko and sage at the center of the platform.

The noise of excitement and congratulations slowly died down as people noticed that the event was not yet over. When calm restored itself, the sage gestured to Zuko and, with a flourish, produced a second crown from his other sleeve. "As I have said, tradition is being broken today and I am crowning not one, but _two_ new Fire Lords."

A mix of muttering and cheers exploded from the crowd at this, so that Katara couldn't even hear the man declare Zuko Fire Lord as he pierced the crown through his topknot. With a bow, the old man quickly vacated the stage, clearly sensing the combined excitement and anger from the crowd.

"How can we have two leaders?" one of the men beside Katara grumbled. "They would completely undermine each other's power!"

Glancing around, she couldn't help a feeling of unease from rising in her stomach. Over the past couple of days she had heard disgruntled, even mutinous, talk among new servants and people she passed by on her occasional walks through the capitol.

Suddenly, she wondered if it was wise to take such a dramatic break from tradition after all. The people of the Fire Nation already looked at Zuko and Iroh with doubt, not sure if they were saviours or traitors after living so long under Sozin's, then Azulon's, then finally Ozai's agendas. It wasn't easy to go from viewing your nation as superior to all others to being told that it's evil and needs to repent for all it has done.

Someone tugged on her sleeve. Turning, Katara saw Toph looking both annoyed and concerned, brow furrowed and lips frowning. In a low voice, she asked, "Should we be one the ready to do some crowd control?"

She nodded, then turned back to the stage.

Zuko and Iroh had taken their places at the center of the platform again, this time standing, their golden crowns gleaming in the sunlight. Somehow, Iroh managed to look entirely calm in the face of the cheering and jeering crowd. Zuko, understandably, looked as though he hoped a hole might open up under his feet.

Iroh raised both hands, the simple gesture succeeding in quieting the crowd despite the apparent disapproval among many. Smiling, he lowered his arms, clasped his hands in front of him, and said, "I understand that many of you question this decision."

Several people wasted no time shouting their agreement.

"However," Iroh went on, raising his voice to be heard over the brief uproar, "I assure you that it is both for the best and temporary. When I pass on, as all old men must, my nephew will seize full control of the throne and this nation will be ruled by one Fire Lord, as always. In the meantime, we will rule together, combining the wisdom of the old and the wisdom of the new to rebuild our nation."

Anger burst out in the crowd again, a steady buzz of disagreement punctuated by distinguishable shouts: "Nobody wants _two_ cowards on the throne!", "The Fire Nation is only damaged because of traitors like you!", and "We don't need another old man stealing power from his brother's kid!"

"_Quiet_!" Zuko bellowed, startling the mob into immediate silence. Glaring down at the displeased faces, he snapped, "First off, _I_ decided there should be two Fire Lords, not uncle Iroh. I've been living as an exile for three years; I don't know how to run a nation, especially not one as broken and confused as ours. Second, my father and the Fire Lord's before him were the real cowards, and jealous at that. They just couldn't stand the idea of their nation not being perfect, of the other elements having resources and abilities they didn't. We never spread our happiness and prosperity – we were a giant leach-flea to the entire world!"

"My nephew is right," Iroh chimed in before the riotous group before them could begin shouting their disagreement. "Many mistakes have been made these past one hundred years, many people hurt, an entire culture wiped out. There are some mistakes we can't fix, but we intend to restore the peace and prosperity you've been promised for so long." He paused, waiting to see if anyone dared challenge these claims before declaring, "The coronation is now over. Please, all of you, return to the palace. I encourage you to participate in the celebrations, but, if you are not feeling particularly festive about these recent events, you are free to simply return to your rooms."

The crowd began to turn away, heading back toward the palace, this time with the cheers drowning out the disapproval. From her slightly raised chunk of earth, Katara could see Ty Lee riding on Sokka's shoulders, Ursa and Bumi walking arm and arm with Pakku trailing close behind (still singing, this time a jaunty Earth Kingdom tune about revolution), Aang riding his air-scooter to the front of the crowd, and Jet continuing to struggle valiantly to converse with Mai.

"Sugar Queen," Toph called, having paused a few feet away when she noticed the older girl wasn't following, "you coming?"

"In a minute."

"Hoping to have a secret rendezvous with lover boy?"

"No!" Katara immediately denied, though she knew her heartbeat would give her away.

Smirking, Toph turned and sauntered away, humming what sounded suspiciously like "Cave of Two Lovers".

Climbing the wide steps that lead to the platform on which Zuko and Iroh stood, Katara waited a few feet away from the pair. It didn't take long for Iroh to notice her, a sly smile spreading across his lips. Patting his nephew's shoulder, he said, "I guess I'd better get to that party."

Following the direction of his uncle's gaze, the slightly confused expression of Zuko's face melted away when he saw her. He barely seemed to register Iroh's final farewell, offering Katara a sheepish smile and averting his gaze. "So . . . . That didn't go very well."

"Could've been worse," she said, taking a few steps closer. "No one tried to kill you."

"_Yet_."

With a small smile and a shake of her head, she wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her forehead on his shoulder, murmuring, "They're all just a bit confused. They'll come around eventually."

He hummed what could have been agreement, returning the embrace. "Will you be my bodyguard until then?"

Laughing, she buried her face in his neck, breathing in his clean scent and revelling in his familiar warmth. "I'll save you from the protesters."

* * *

Author's Notes: _It. Is. DONE! -collapse-_

_So, yes, it's finally finished. After - what, a year and a half? - I've finally finished this story. I never imagined it would turn out this long, but I'm pretty pleased with the overall result and sincerely thank everyone who reviewed, whether it was to offer criticism or support. You guys are awesome. :)_

_That being said, this is probably gonna be the last piece of fanfiction I write - for a while, anyone. I might post a few drabbles every now and then, but I want to focus on my original writing from now on. _

_I hope you guys have enjoyed this and all the other stories that I've written, and I hope you all have a wonderful New Years. Keep the Zutara love alive!_

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: the Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with. **_  
_


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